When I Close My Eyes
by TheNocturne
Summary: When Kuki begins to dream of the past, she longs to find the mysterious blonde boy who haunts her memories. But when fate pulls the two together under dire circumstances, things begin to spiral out of control. Wally/Kuki with a side of Abby/Hoagie.
1. Just a Dream?

**I was going to wait to start this, but then one night I got in mood to just write and write and write. This came out fairly quickly, as well as the beginning of the next chapter of Operation TUTOR, so you should see that soon as well. And maybe some one-shots, if I can come up with any ideas.**

**This story's plotline should make itself evident soon, if it hasn't by the end of this chapter. But trust me, this is just where it begins. There's much more than this chapter shows. After all, we haven't even seen Wally yet. :D**

**Anyway, I hope you enjoy this story as it unfolds. I know I'm going to enjoy writing it!**

**If you're curious, part of the plot to this story comes from the song "Everywhere" by Michelle Branch. Give it a listen, it's pretty rad.**

**If you're also curious, they're both about 19 in this story. Just so you know.**

**Right, I'm going to quit rambling and just let you read. Have a lovely week!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Codename: Kids Next Door or any of its characters.**

**Love, Sadie**

_--_

_The world around her was quiet._

_Everything seemed to glow with an unnatural light. Kuki realized immediately that this must be a dream, for the weather was far too clear and pleasant to be an actual memory. And there seemed to be a faint music in the distance - a faint melody that was both haunting and calling. Curiously, she began to explore her surroundings, and found that the scene plucked at the faint strings at the back of her memory._

_And then, without warning, she began to move down the path. Her muscles moved without command of her mind, as though she was a puppet on strings to be moved as some unseen figure would wish it. It was then that she realized that this must be a dream of a memory, a figment of her past that her mind was trying hazily to recall._

_She watched through first-hand eyes as her dream-self danced through the streets, humming a tune that she could barely remember the words to. There seemed to be some intent in her direction, for she turned purposely down a maze of streets and finally stopped at a place with aisles lined with colorfully-packaged sweets._

_Thoughts that she had not created were born into her mind - what candy will I buy for the others? - and Kuki wondered what others she had been buying candy for, because she could not remember this specific incident in her past. It was obvious that this happened at an age too young for her to clearly remember._

_"Good morning, Mr. Alister!" her dream-self chirped in the voice that she could remember, the one that had been so high and so cheerful. Since then, her voice had taken on new, warmer undertones that still had hints of chirping hidden inside it at moments of emotional excitement. The man greeted her warmly by name and Kuki realized that she must have gone there frequently as a child, and yet she couldn't remember it._

_She found herself thoroughly enjoying the pleasant scene, and was quite disgruntled when she was yanked out of it and into consciousness._

"What?"

Kuki sat up and tried to make sense of the area surrounding her. It all came rushing back like a river into her lake of a brain. She wasn't a child; she was on the verge of adulthood and it was finally beginning to show in the gentle curves that had taken their place on her body. She wasn't in her old home; they had relocated to an area nearby and in an place that was slightly more urban.

And she wasn't living at home anymore. Which is why her roommate started grumbling at her sudden disturbance in the early hours of the morning.

"You okay, girl?" The hoarse voice belonged to a Miss Abigail Lincoln, who sounded very weary and somewhat impatient with the sudden outburst at a time when sudden outbursts should not occur.

"I'm. . . not sure." Kuki ran a hand through her thick hair, brushing the loose strands away from her eyes. She sat herself up and crossed her thin legs, trying to recall the scene that had just acted itself out in her sleeping mind. The question that followed had passed her lips a few times in the past, but never with so much meaning. "Why do you think I can't remember my entire childhood?" Her breath came out a sigh. "I think I just had a dream about it."

"Come again?" Seeming to realize that sleep was not going to happen for some time, Abby sat up herself, rubbing a hand across her eyes and turning to face the other girl.

"I just had a dream. . . about me. As a child. It felt like a memory." Kuki adjusted her rumpled pajamas in an attempt to find something to do with her anxious hands. "You've told me before that you don't remember yours, either. Why do you think that is?"

"We've talked about this." Exasperatedly, Abby let her head fall on her pillow and closed her eyes again. "We don't know. Maybe we both suffered eerily similar bouts of amnesia?"

Still not convinced, Kuki slid out of her bed and wrapped a blanket around herself. It was evident that Abby expected to sleep for at least a few more hours, so she exited the bedroom and shut the door behind her. She could entertain herself perfectly fine before the rest of the world decided to wake up.

The sun was just barely beginning to grace the word with its flaming golden reaches, so there really was no purpose in trying to recapture sleep. Instead, she would have a little more time to prepare for the day, and that suited her just fine. Only the wooden floor was cold against her toes, so she started by retreating into the kitchen.

Over the past few years, she had developed a liking for warmed milk in the morning. It was the perfect soothing drink for days like today, when the nerves needed to be tamed from their crackling instability. She stirred in a couple spoonfuls of chocolate-laced powder to add a sweet taste to the mixture, and then raised the mug to her full lips and swallowed it without a break. It left a pleasant aftertaste on her tongue.

As other human beings do, she went through her morning routine with little thought. After brushing her teeth clean from any traces of chocolate, she combed her tangled hair into one single wave that swept down her back. The bathroom fogged up with steam quickly when she turned the shower on. The puffs of white smoke from the steaming heat melted away her troubles and washed them down the drain in a smooth spiral.

Upon finishing, she wrapped the damp towel snugly around her lithe figure, turning to face herself in the foggy clouded mirror. The face she saw had aged since childhood, but the face behind it, she realized, had not. Her lips still carried the hint of a childish smile, and black lashes framed the light violet eyes that glinted brightly even in the dim light. Her features were as slender and graceful as ever, but had lengthened over the years to make her a shadow in the moving crowds.

The minutes following were also a fairly average routine for her. Black dress slacks and a button-up green shirt that was just dark enough to contrast her gaze. Dark shoes and a pair of simple green earrings. It wasn't in her nature to dress up; Kuki had always preferred a warm sweater and a pair of clean pants, but in her profession it was necessary to appear clean-cut.

It wasn't until she had began to nibble on a bar made of fruit and oats that a sleepy Abby shuffled in, covering a wide yawn with her painted fingertips. The chair scraped against the floor as she fell into it, resting her chin on a leaning hand. "Mornin', sunshine."

"Morning, sleepy," Kuki responded with a lopsided grin at the girl, already moving to set out a bowl and a gallon of milk for her.

"You're perky." Reaching for her brightly-colored cereal box, Abby lifted an eyebrow at her. Their mornings were usually spent quietly, for both girls were under the philosophy that any real waking up should not happen until somewhere around noon. It was only on special occasions that either of them could be completely coherent at breakfast.

"Nah. Just awake." She took another bite of her breakfast and chewed it thoughtfully for a minute. "I had a dream about my childhood. It felt real. Like a memory." This time, she had Abby's full attention, given the fact that Abby was out of reach of the warm pull of her bed. "It wasn't really important. . . I was just buying candy. But it seemed _real_."

"It could have been a memory." Abby tilted her head, and Kuki could almost imagine the dusty gears in her head beginning to turn slowly, waking from the sleep that had held them still until now. "Abby has those sometimes, y'know? Just stupid stuff, like the carnival came to town. It could have been a small memory."

"I wonder who I was buying candy for." A tiny smile played on the corners of her lips as Kuki mused over the question. A playmate, perhaps? An old friend? Mushi? Or maybe more than one person; maybe she had been taking in candy for her class at school. There was no indication one way or another, but it was fun to imagine the mysterious figures that she would have been taking the multicolored candies to.

Abby shrugged and dug eagerly into her cereal with vigor that was usually reserved for a sports player. Even leaning against the counter, Kuki could hear the pieces crunching between her teeth. She was lost inside her own mind, replaying the fantastic scene in her head, and didn't notice the continual ticking of the clock.

Finally, Abby spoke up. "Hey, wait, girl, aren't you gonna be late for work?"

"Oh!" Kuki grabbed her purse and let it dangle off of her shoulder, throwing a wide smile over her shoulder. "See you later! Have a great day!" She barely caught her friend's reply as she scurried out the door and started down the sidewalk. It was only a short walk to her office, and she rather enjoyed the stunning outdoors, especially on the crisp and somewhat chilling mornings. It was a miracle that her long jacket kept all the wind out.

The streets were empty, save for the cars that were few and far between. It was one of the benefits of starting an early shift; Kuki never had to worry about crowded sidewalks and busy streets, and the fear of being late for work was all but nothing. It gave her time to enjoy the sub-urban settings of her hometown and mull over things that there was normally no time to think about in the busy chaos of the day.

Which could be a good thing at some times, and a bad thing at other times.

This morning was one of the ones were she would have rather liked to have something else inside her head while she walked, instead of the company of her own thoughts. The dream had begun to eat away at her mind, threatening to wash over her every thought.

She had been so happy back then. It was easy to see that her dream-self had been enjoying life; it had been evident in the bouncing step, the cheerful chirp in the voice, and the way that her dream-mind had noticed every single bright detail of the sunny dream scene. It was so clearly evident that it would have taken a fool to look at her and think that she hadn't been enjoying life to the very fullest extent, in every minute of every day.

So. . . what had happened?

Kuki recounted in her mind the details of her life. She was living with her best friend and she had a decent profession that provided her with some comfort that many people couldn't afford. She hung out with friends on a frequent basis and loved to stay up during the long nights with a good book and a mug of hot chocolate.

Truly, she had almost everything that life could offer.

So what left her feeling empty?

--

**p.s. If you can figure out why teenage!Kuki isn't as happy as childhood!Kuki, then you get a cookie.**

**Pfft. As if it's hard to figure out.**


	2. Glimpses

**No school means lots of time to get typing done. No school makes Sadie very happy. And later I get to chill with lots of friends, so it's going to be a good day. As of right now, I need some lunch.**

**Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter. More glimpses of the plot appear, hurrah! But some of it is still a secretive secret that is so secretly secret that it's . . . secret.**

**Yes.**

**Dedicated to my lovely reviewers who are so incredibly kind and make me want to hug them and squeeze them and pet them and call them George. But I wouldn't do that. Because it's a little creepy.**

**Disclaimer: I still don't own Codename: Kids Next Door. But I do own Thatcher and Nikki. Isn't Thatcher a rad name?**

**Right. Anyway. Please enjoy!**

**Love, Sadie**

**--**

The streets were bursting with activity that hadn't been present an hour before. It was an ordinary day in the city; with hustlers on the corners making their rounds through the innocent bystanders and pedestrians that thought that the sidewalk was theirs alone. It was a scene that would have offended a person who was new to the area, but for those who had lived there for some time, it was just that kind of place. And it was easy to learn what streets to avoid, if you were smart.

Truly, the gang that was strutting down the street was enjoying the spectacle. All around them, people hastened to keep their appointments while evading any trouble. It was such a contrast from how the streets were in the early hours of the morning. And this side of the contrast was much more entertaining.

Besides, it served their purposes. They were a small group, a band of three people. Normally they were more, but for now they only needed three. In the crowds, they looked innocent enough, no more extravagant than anyone else. It would have taken someone who had great observational skills to notice the dangerous edge that seemed to radiate from their tanned skin.

Despite the differences in their appearances, they all carried the same aura about them. The leader was a male with an emotionless face, one that would have seemed a mask for all the feelings that showed on it during the hours of the day. He was sleek and purposeful, with a determination in whatever mission he was carrying out.

The one behind him was entirely female, and it showed in her body and the way she walked as though she was well aware of it. Her honey-colored locks were in a single braid down her back, swinging out like a whip behind her. Unlike the other two, she was dressed with a splash of color, with a scarlet jacket draped across her shoulders.

The one in the rear was clothed entirely in dark shades like the leader, with a smirk that held on his lips like it belonged there. His hair fell roughly around his head in a vague bowl-cut, long enough to hide his eyes from view. He walked with a strong confidence, for he was lanky and tall, with muscles in his arms that were only vaguely noticeable under the tight web of his skin.

They turned down the street toward the park, where children were playing delightedly. It was much easier during the school year, when these loud annoyances would have been locked away in school and force to do written work. But for now, they were set free during the brisk summer mornings. And this was a problem for the group.

The leader scoped out the children with an eye that was well-suited for the job. Some of them were playing innocently on the colorful contraptions of the playground, but some of the children seemed to have other intentions that it was easy for them to notice. And it only took their leader a few moments to recognize a group of such children.

Within minutes, they had the group surrounded, and the children looked up with startled expressions that quickly turned to disgust. Without warning, they sprang onto their feet and settled into a battle formation that would have been cute to the unit around them if it hadn't seemed so childish. The leader of the kid's sector barked out, "Leave us alone, teenagers."

The older man only laughed. "Let's see if we can remember. You're Tony, right? And this is your sector, with Molly, Laurie, Jackson, and Daniel." He pointed to each of the children by name with a smile that suggested that it was not a good thing that he could name each one. Daniel scowled, pulling out a contraption and pointing it up.

"You're not scaring us, Thatcher. You and your stupid Investigative Unit can't stop us. We're going to get shorter school hours if you like it or not."

"Oh," Thatcher mocked, "you're so threatening. What do you think, Nikki?"

The girl beside him grinned, showing her teeth. "I think you kiddies are in way over your little heads."

"Kids Next Door, attack!" Daniel gestured forward, and suddenly each of the children had a weapon in their hands. It was entertaining for the I.U. to see the weapons that were balanced so unthreateningly in their hands, and it was only a smooth motion for Thatcher to kick the weapon out of Laurie's tiny fingers and catch it, pointing it back at her.

"Jerk!" The spunky freckled girl, Molly, kicked him in the shin, wrinkling her speckled nose as her braids danced around her face. She was brave, certainly, and it amused the I.U. greatly. As quickly as she had kicked him, the third member of the I.U. and picked her up and tossed her aside.

"Look." Thatcher bent down and grinned in Daniel's face, who only pointed the muzzle of the weapon in the middle of his forehead. "We're not causing you trouble today, got it, kid? We're just making sure to pass on a message. Don't try to shorten your school days. We'll just stop you."

Daniel snorted and gestured at the other members of his sector. Without warning, rockets burst out of their backpacks and they shot into the sky, away from the unit below, who only shook their heads at the hasty exits of the children.

"I sort of liked that little girl," Nikki laughed as they started their way back. "The one that kicked you. She's got spirit."

Thatcher grinned and nodded. "Their sector is going to be interesting to face, isn't it? This should be fun." Over his shoulder, he grinned at the third member. "You're quiet. Don't you agree, Wally?"

The male nodded, smirking. "Can't wait."

_--_

_The air was scented with ice cream._

_It must be another dream, Kuki thought, because she couldn't recall such a scent on the streets in any of her years living there. Besides, she didn't recognize the scene, although it was a pleasant place that was entirely green and floral._

_She surveyed the area for a while and took it all in. She wanted to memorize every detail of this dream, to cling to what might be another memory. This dream had the same feeling as the last one; a happy feeling that seemed to come from inside and outside._

_A voice called her name, and then she stopped having control over her own actions. Her dream-self turned to meet the source of the voice. Kuki was excited to glimpse a piece of her past, a figure that might explain where the memories were coming from._

_But she didn't recognize him. He was a boy, dressed in a hoodie that threatened to overwhelm his small frame. The blonde hair almost completely swept over his emerald eyes, which were alight with the sunlight that poured through the leaves onto them._

"_Numbuh Four!" Kuki didn't know why her dream-self was calling him by number, but he didn't respond to it, so he must have been called that regularly. He sat down beside her with an exasperated look and a roll of his eyes._

"_I'm so cruddy bored. What are you doing out here?" He leaned back on the palms of his hands and looked at her curiously, examining her as though in search of something. Any stuffed animals, her dream-self recognized. But for once, she was sitting alone, enjoying the view from the tree branch that they were seated on._

"_Nothing much. It's just pretty out here." She gestured a sleeve-covered hand to the area down below._

_A faint blush covered his cheeks, one that her dream-self was unaware of but that Kuki immediately noticed. Why was the boy blushing? "I. . . guess. Yeah." He fell quiet, looking out at the town and searching for his own house._

_Her dream-self was pleased with the serenity of the moment. "I like have you out here with me, Numbuh Four."_

Kuki was not pleased when she rolled over and woke up from the dream. Grumbling at the interruption, she sat up and blew away a few strands of hair that were sticking to her lips. Who was that boy and was he an actual part of her past? How did she know him?

"Abby!" she whispered, not caring about what time it was. "Abby, I've had another one!"

"Nn?" The girl waved a hand at her in the dim light, trying to convey to her that Abby wanted her to shut up and go back to bed. It was a fair request, but Kuki ignored it and called her name again. Finally, Abby sat up, stretching her words out in a tiny whine. "Wha-at?"

"I had another dream, from my childhood. It felt real, Abby! But there was a boy that I don't recognize."

"Ya probably just forgot 'im." In her weary state, Abby had started to slur her words slightly. "Or it was just a dream, Kuki."

"He was blonde, with a bowl-shaped haircut. And he had green eyes. And this big orange hoodie." Kuki pressed forward, trying to spark anything in Abby's memory. "Do you know anyone like that?" When the girl on the other bed tiredly shook her head, Kuki felt disappointed. "Are you sure?"

"Positive." Abby let her head fall back on her pillow. "Can Abby go back to bed now?"

Kuki didn't respond, resting her head on her knees. It had felt so entirely real, the entire scene. All the details had pricked at some part of her memory, as though she had been there and she was certain of it. But the boy. . . he didn't register.

Why had she called him Number Four? Had she had a number, too? He had referred to her by name, but she hadn't responded in like, so maybe not. Maybe that was actually his name.

She felt frustrated, scowling at nothing in particular in the darkness. In the dream, she had been so utterly content with the happenings around her - the place, the time, _and_ the boy. Especially the boy. Even she had heard the warmth in her voice as she had spoken to him. It was apparent that they knew each other, possibly very well. So who was he?

Irritated, she put her head back on her pillow and closed her eyes. Behind her eyelids, she could see his face, grinning at her in the dim light of the sunset. She could hear him calling to her in the echoing voice that he had used in her dream.

But when she opened her eyes, he still wasn't there. Not there, not anywhere.

Hugging her blanket to her, she sighed softly into its warm fabric.

Maybe it _was_ just a dream.


	3. Briefed and Ready to Go

**The more I type this story, the more I'm enjoying it. No lie. I had so much fun with this chapter.**

**This one is all about Wally's new life, as well as his new, er, "friends." With a tiny sprinkle of plot at the end.**

**I'd type more, except that my class starts in 20 minutes and so it's kind of important that I run. :D**

**I really hope you all enjoy this chapter! Have a great week!**

**Disclaimer: I still don't own Codename: Kids Next Door or the characters involved. The I.U., the facility, Thatcher, Lark, Nikki, and Becky are mine.**

**Love, Sadie**

--

The white hallways were devoid of any type of decoration or design, creating an impersonal feeling that seemed to just press in and squeeze on anyone who happened to be walking down the cold floor. Everything was pristine and flawless, with metal edges that glinted in the bright man-made lights. It could have been a doctor's office, although the intent of the place was much more malicious.

It was a place that was difficult to recognize from the outside and even more difficult to enter of recognition did hit. Only those who were brought in were told about the knob on the third tree to the west, which opened up a tiny porthole in the ground for a person to slide down. It made entry into the building bothersome, but it was discreet and that was what made it ideal.

Three bodies, all in a line, made their way down the porthole and into a white room that had only a single door on the other side. The door was lined with two locks and a fingerprint access device, all of them staring defiantly at whoever entered, daring them to have access to the large underground facility. Thatcher wasn't fazed as he pulled out a tiny key that clicked open the first lock, slid a card through the scanner of the second lock, and pressed his fingertip to the device. It chimed out in monotone and the door jumped open, swinging outward to let them in.

Thatcher began to walk down the hallway with the other two following him, their footsteps echoing purposefully in the inhuman environment. Thatcher was flicking through a file and talking over his shoulder to the other two, who kept silent throughout the entire briefing. They had always worked that way, like a trio of cogs except that one of them did the majority of the spinning.

"We'll need to inform Lark about the activities of Sector C, as well as a quick report on our assigned operatives. Assuming that you both did your job, we'll have plenty to tell. We might even escape the notice that we couldn't find anything about the Code Red Operative. After that, I'm assuming that we'll get our newest assignments, and then we can get to work."

Nikki, her honey-colored locks bobbing with each step, spoke up when he was finished. "I was successful, so we should prove satisfactory this week. I think we're late, though."

Thatcher shrugged and pushed through a pair of glass doors into a small room that was set with simply a table, chairs, and a man in the head chairs. He apparently had not shaved that morning, for his chin was lined with stubble and his jaw was clenched tightly. The trio tensed and reminded themselves to deliver the good news in an attempt to appease him.

Both of the males let Nikki start, given her way with words and men and her ability to smooth over the most enraged person. She did not disappoint. "Lark, we have the greatest of news for you."

"Sit." Without looking up at them, he examined the file that Thatcher had slid to him over the tabletop, and he waved a quick hand at them. They each took a seat around him, waiting for him to speak again. That was the way that you worked with Lark; he made the rules. "Go ahead."

"Sector C, which we visited recently, is working to shorten their time spent in school. We executed a proper threat and got a glimpse of their plans, which is explained on the tabbed paper in the file. They're recognizing us now, which we believe is having a positive effect on the amount of fear that we hold over them. Our next visit should put a stop to the school plan."

Lark considered the sentence and then nodded, taking a quick look at the tabbed paper and then motioning for the next phase of their meeting to begin. The three looked at each other, and with silent communication decided that Thatcher would begin their reporting.

"As assigned, I checked up on Numbuh 37, who was decommissioned only a year ago. Using conversational hints, I've deduced that he has no recollection of his time spent in the Kids Next Door whatsoever. I tracked his movements for a few days and found no contact with any operatives made from him, and he appears to have taken on interests that seem to hint that he has forgotten the Kids Next Door completely. I even saw him go to a club with a group of teenagers."

"Shall I mark him off as a success?" Lark glanced up at Thatcher with a raised eyebrow.

"Given the evidence, I believe he is."

"Done." Lark made a mark on the papers in front of him and then turned to Nikki expectantly. "Report."

"You assigned me Numbuh 91 last week, who I struck up a conversation with only a few days ago. When the Kids Next Door was mentioned briefly, she seemed to become nervous, although tracking her has shown no signs of contact or sympathies. She goes to the mall with her friends, teenagers, frequently, and has started studying for college, which is a hint that she has let go of her childhood. Although it might be prudent to keep an eye on her, I think she could be judged as a success."

"Noted. Wally?"

The boy mentioned leaned back in his seat and placed his feet on the table, completely ignoring the slightly disgruntled look that crossed Lark's face. "I saw Numbuh 182 go near a common Kids Next Door base on a frequent basis, although she always had an excuse for it. When I had an innocent conversation with her, she mentioned casually that she loves children. She has become suspicious of my motives after seeing me again, and so I would suggest that another I.U. is assigned to her, just to make certain."

"Also noted. Well done." He shuffled his papers and stood, a sign for them to stand as well. "I will go take these to the I.U. system room. You three may go to the briefing room for your next assignments."

" Thank you, sir," was the chorus that came from the trio. Without another word, they stood and exited the room, turning down one of the long hallways and heading in a new direction. When they were certain that they were out of Lark's hearing, they let out a collective sigh of relief.

In the back, Wally smirked at their apparent success. It was not easy to appease Lark, but they had done a good job the last couple weeks. He enjoyed working with his Unit, and the assignments were easy to complete, if you knew how. He counted himself as a top agent, as well as his entire Unit.

Thatcher was a good leader, if not one that could be difficult to understand. He had been an I.U. agent since the beginning of his teenage years and was now one of the most demanded leaders. He had dark features that made his smirk look more devious than Wally could achieve, as well as an eye for detail. He had mastered the art of being unfeeling and detached, and had no mercy for any of the children that they encountered. No wonder he was one of the highest-ranking agents.

He had taken Wally under his wing from the day that Wally had met him. They had become fast friends due to Thatcher's ability to match his sarcastic wit, and it was Thatcher that brought him into the I.U. and trained him. Although Wally had been under other leaders previously, it was determined that he worked best under Thatcher. They had a mutual trust that was important in this kind of work, and Wally thought of him as the older brother that he never had.

Nikki was newer to the pair, and Wally didn't trust her as much as he trusted Thatcher. She had a malicious way about her that seemed to make even an innocent conversation feel like it had some greater purpose that could mean nothing good. She was attractive in a way that Wally had never seen before; a dangerous beauty that threatened to captivate and control. It was chilling, and Wally kept his distance from her.

She was a good agent, however, and her specialty was stealth tactics and verbal assault. Her wit was as sharp as her eyes, and she could bruise the ego faster than the skin. Her hair was always pinned away from her face to maintain focus, and she had slender fingers that made her grasp feel like a spider entangling a helpless victim. In truth, Wally would have preferred a different agent in their Unit, but Thatcher thought that her skills were necessary to their tactics.

And on top of all that, her attempts of making conversation always felt like they were nothing more than attempts to dig inside Wally's mind. "So, guys, how do you feel about your own childhood?" she questioned now, glancing between them with a wry grin. "Are you ashamed of your actions back then?"

In all honesty, Wally couldn't remember his childhood. He blamed it on his faulty memory and had decided that it must have been boring anyway. So he left the question for Thatcher to answer, knowing that Thatcher knew just about everything.

"Our childhoods were fantastic," Thatcher responded. Wally should have felt offended at the other male for answering for him, but he didn't. Thatcher remembered the childhood that he couldn't. "Wally and I played football almost every weekend and he beat me almost every time, right, Wally?"

Wally couldn't remember playing football. "Right." He masked his ignorance with a grin. "You always did suck at it."

Thatcher's laughter echoed down the hallway and bounced back at them. But it died quickly when they neared the briefing room, and Thatcher pushed open the door with an authority that said that he was supposed to be there. Wally wished that he could carry that kind of confidence, but his attempts to do so were mockable. Instead, he just held his head with a cocky pride as he entered after the other two, taking a seat and looking at the woman at the end of the table expectantly.

She didn't appear happy or surprised to see them; her only expression was one of utter boredom. She slid three folders onto the table, one at each of them, and although they each took one, they knew enough to know that they couldn't open them yet. Nikki looked impatiently at hers, with fingernails tapping on the cream-colored file.

"These are your new assignments," the woman, Becky, intoned, as she did every time they came in here for their new tasks. But they listened as they always did, for angering Becky was not a good idea. She'd pick up a bad assignment for anyone who dared speak against her. "You will check up on each operative from the past and make certain that they have been completely decommissioned and that they have no memory of their days in the Kids Next Door. You will also make sure that they are not sympathetic to the new generation of Kids Next Door in any way whatsoever."

Thatcher nodded politely as always, and waited for her to nod at them. The other two watched as he opened his folder and glanced at the picture and profile of the operative. They had a tradition of saying their assignments out loud, and so Thatcher announced the name for all to hear. "Hoagie Gilligan, also known as Numbuh Two."

"He lives with me," Wally offered, leaning back in his seat. He was vaguely surprised to hear that his friend had been a member of the Kids Next Door. Wally would _never_ be caught with a such a horrifying past. "So you'll find him easy. I don't think he has any connections with the Kids Next Door."

"I'll make sure, anyway," Thatcher said, scanning through the profile for any other vital information. "You never know with past operatives."

Nikki opened her own and read it aloud, with no recognition in her voice. "Rachel McKenzie, also known as Numbuh 362." Looking up, she saw no emotions on the faces of the males, either. "Ever heard of her?"

"Nope," the two boys responded simultaneously. Shrugging, Nikki closed her file, and joined in with Thatcher on turning to Wally to hear his assignment.

Wally slid his fingers into the file and pulled it open, and was struck by a picture of a girl with a pair of wide violet eyes that seemed to dance, even in the still image. His voice came out slower than it had before. "I have Kuki Sanban, who was Numbuh Three."

The other two shook their heads again, and stood up to leave. Wally was out the door behind him, his eyes on the picture that was held into the folder with a paper clip.

_Look out, Kuki Sanban_, he though venomously. _You'll be hearing from me quite soon._


	4. A Trip Down Memory Lane

**I have a confession to make.**

**I'm torturing you guys, just a little. :D**

**I can't help it. I can either update this story or Operation TUTOR, and I keep updating this one because, firstly, I love this story, and secondly, because it was really fun to leave you with a cliffhanger and it's even more fun making you wait to read the rest of it and find inner peace with yourselves.**

**So, yes. I'm being a little mean. But if I update Operation TUTOR soon, you'll forgive me, right? :D**

**In the meantime, enjoy this chapter. It has a couple interesting encounters, as well as lyrics from Michelle Branch's "Everywhere." I like this chapter, too. But next chapter is where the really good stuff starts happening, so stay tuned. I feel like a television program now.**

**I hope you all are having a great week; I know I am. It's been fun, and my roomies and I are watching So You Think You Can Dance tonight together. It's going to be great.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Codename: Kids Next Door and the included characters, or the lyrics by Michelle Branch. But Mr. Alister was a figure from my silly brain, so I guess I can call him mine.**

**Once again, I hope you all are having a fantastic week. I love you guys. 3  
Thanks again for all the reviews and support, especially to Laurie34, Kameko-Lullaby, hellopandaluver, and sstoons3425. You all are awesome with a special side of barbeque-flavored greatness. Mmm.**

**Love, Sadie**

_---_

_This must have be a dream, too, because the sun was far too bright and the air was much too sweet._

_Kuki recognized the setting of the dream, as it was the same of all her previous memory dreams. It was the same area full of green and splashes of red and yellow in the form of flowers, with the same quaint houses and the same faint melody in the trees._

_These dreams had been coming more and more frequently now, occurring almost every night for the past few days. Now, as she went to bed, she closed her eyes and squeezed them hard, almost painfully, trying to make sleep come so that she could get another sight of her past._

_This one did not disappoint. Again, she saw the same blonde-haired boy bounding toward her with a grin on his face and his hair in his eyes. The only name she could give him so far is "Numbuh Four," for her dream self referred to him by that name and only by that name._

_When she began to feel her dream-self take control of her limbs and motions, she settled back to watch the scene unfold before her. It was like watching a movie, except through the eyes of the main character, and this one she was thoroughly enjoying. She couldn't imagine what kind of end was coming._

_The boy was excited about something. "Numbuh Three! We're going to the ice cream shop later, are ya coming?"_

_She had begun to notice a few things about him throughout her nightly adventures with him. For one, his voice had a thick accent that sounded Australian. And he seemed to carry a tough persona, often bragging or throwing insults around the air loftily as though challenging anyone in sight. It was amusing to watch._

"_Okay!" He seemed to visibly brighten at her cheerful response, although Kuki noticed once more that it escaped her dream-self's notice. Apparently she had been a naive child, but that wasn't a surprise at all. She had always been a little bit naive, even through her teenage years._

_The boy grinned at her with all the affection of a friend, but it felt so warm inside her chest. "I'm glad you're coming."_

"_I-"_

Something yanked Kuki out of her dream, which irritated her greatly. She sat up and realized that an owl was making a bold statement to the empty night right outside her window. The beady eyes swiviled around to look at her, and Kuki huffed back at it, trying to communicate how disgruntled she was at the bird for waking her up. The owl only let out another cry and then looked away again.

Sighing, Kuki got out of bed and quickly changed clothes, into a comfortable outfit that was good for travel. It was a solitary Saturday morning, and she intended on making use of it.

_Turn it inside out so I can see  
The part of you that's drifting over me_

After consuming only a few bites of a granola bar, Kuki realized that she had no appetite. With a shrug, she placed the bar on the counter and then scribbled a note to Abby. _Going to be out all day, doing some research. We'll hang out tomorrow. Love, Kooks._

_And when I wake you're, you're never there  
But when I sleep you're, you're everywhere_

It was frustrating to spend all night dreaming of the mysterious figure, and then to open her eyes and find herself completely devoid of any such male in her life. How could he do that to her; dance and laugh behind her eyelids, only to vanish like a ghost during the day when she looked for him?

_You're everywhere_

With a sigh, Kuki picked up her bag and slung it over her shoulder. It only took a second to lock the door behind her, and then she was stalking down the sidewalk in the dim morning, when the sun was only just beginning to peep out. She only had a vague destination in mind, but it was a good place to start.

_Just tell me how I got this far  
Just tell me why you're here and who you are_

The crisp air cleared her mind and gave way to the demanding thoughts that were crowding her brain. Why had she only now began to dream about the boy who had so obviously been a huge part of her childhood? How could she not recognize him, and why couldn't she find him in this small city? Who was he, the boy who had taken up so much of her life as a child?

_'Cause every time I look  
You're never there  
And every time I sleep  
You're always there_

An angry sigh burst out from beneath her barely parted lips. The chill in the air seemed to sweep against her face, like the wind was throwing kisses at her. It only froze against Kuki's skin, and she pulled her long coat tighter around her and tried to shield out the frosty bite. With a singular determination, she turned down another street, into a smaller part of town.

_I recognize the way you make me feel  
It's hard to think that you might not be real_

After all, she tried reasoning with herself, how could someone who had made her feel so warm honestly be a large part of her past? If he had meant so much to her, then where had he gone? Why couldn't she recall a single piece of him from her memory?

Maybe. . . maybe he was just a dream. Just a happy dream from her desparate mind.

_I sense it now, the water's getting deep  
I try to wash the pain away from me  
Away from me_

She took a sip from the water bottle that she had brought with her and felt the cool liquid slide down her throat. It seemed to soothe the burning feeling inside of her, the fire-like pain that had begun to smolder in her very core. The dreams had created a longing inside of her, and were taunting her with whirling images of happier times and sweet memories. Where had it gone? Why didn't she have it now?

_'Cause you're everywhere to me  
And when I close my eyes it's you I see  
You're everything I know  
That makes me believe  
I'm not alone_

As the wind created a swirl of dancing leaves around her, Kuki took a moment to appreciate the scenery. It was the beginning of a truly beautiful day, and Kuki wanted to take the moment and capture it inside her mind, to never let it go and recall it whenever she was trapped inside because of a dismal, pouring storm.

But when she closed her eyes, it wasn't the street that she saw. It was the boy's face again.

_I'm not alone_

With a sigh, Kuki only hugged herself tighter with her jacket and made her way down another street. She was in an unfamiliar part of town, and yet she felt like she knew where she was going. It wasn't long before she had emerged on a street that held the rusty place that she was looking for.

The paint was chipping on the edges, and the parking lot was full of loose pieces of discarded trash that were scattered about. There were only a few cars filling the area surrounding the building, and they were placed in front of other stores. Shrugging, Kuki made her way to the one that she had come for.

The old bell chimed through the quiet store as Kuki pushed the door open, alerting the owner that a customer had arrived, although there was no one at the counter. But she didn't mind that, finding her way through the aisles of the store with a searching expression.

It was so familiar. There were rows of packaged candies, all dressed up in wrappers that were designed to catch the eyes of children. The green sweets were sour, and the red sweets read "cherry," and the blue sweets were said to color the tongue. There were candies to suck on, and candies to chew, and candies that stretched out and became like flavored rubber between the teeth.

Her fingers brushed against the plastic, trying to force her brain to recall the times from her past that she had come to this store and picked between the little candies. Her eyes were drawn to the sweetest ones, the ones with labeled flavors that had names such as "blueberry delight" and "strawberry rush" and "fruit punch blast." For some reason, she felt like she would have chosen these.

"Can I help you?"

The voice came from the counter, where the owner of the little shop had stepped out from a door and taken his place beside the register. He was looking at her innocently, but Kuki felt like she had been punched in the gut; his face, although aged, was precisely the same face that had appeared in her dream. The only difference was that his hair was now a salt-and-pepper sweep over his head, and that new wrinkles had begun to show at the corners of his eyes.

"Mr. Alister?" she asked tentatively, trying out the name on her tongue. To her delight, he seemed to respond to the name, and a smile crossed his face that made his eyes crinkle up.

Then, without warning, his face brightened considerably more. "Why, is that you, miss Kuki Sanban?" Palms resting on the countertop, he leaned forward, searching her face expectantly. "Look at you! All grown up and in my shop again!"

She walked toward the counter in wonder, feeling herself smile in return at the old man who so obviously remembered her and her frequent visits to the shop as a child. "You remember me?"

"Of course I do," he said warmly. "You and your little friends came here so often, I thought you were going to buy everything I had."

She wanted to ask about the friends that he'd mentioned, but a new curiosity had taken hold of her first. With a smile, she gestured toward the aisle. "All of this looks so new to me, it's been so long. What was it that I bought for myself?"

Stroking a hand down his peppered beard, Mr. Alister snapped his fingers and then shuffled away to the third aisle. She listened to him rummage around through the various plastic packagaes before coming back with a bag that was full of brightly-colored candies, all of them pink and red and yellow and green. They were given names with fanciful flavors and seemed to beam at her from inside their wrappings.

"If I remember right, you particularly liked these," he nodded at the package, patting it with his knobbed fingers. Even the sight of the candy seemed to pluck at another string in her memory that was buried beneath the others, and Kuki felt herself fill up with happiness. Fumbling around, she produced a few bills and held them out to him.

"Here. For the candy," she said, with delight coursing through her at the idea of sucking on the candies again.

"These ones are on the house." Winking at her, he gently pushed the bills back toward her. "For one of my favorite customers." Beaming brightly, Kuki hugged the candy to her and realized that she was going to come back to this place much more often than she had in the past few years, if not just for the man behind the counter.

"Thank you!" Her fingers fondled the plastic with a newfound sense of childish rapture. She was going to rush home immediately and force Abby to try a few of them, and figure out which flavor was her absolute favor. But when her fingers were touched against the cold metal, she hesitated and turned back to him. "Mr. Alister?"

"Yes, dear?" He had made himself busy with a few papers at the register, but when he looked back up at her, his eyes were twinkling brightly at her.

"Who were the friends I came here with?" The question felt a little foolish, especially given that he had remembered the friends that she hadn't, but he didn't seem to mind it. His eyes lifted toward the ceiling as he thought back.

"Well. . . there was a Mister Gilligan, I remember him. He had such a love for the candy. And there was the other boy, Wallabee. He used to be so embarassed because he had to buy the heart-shaped lollipops for you and your friends. And there was a girl. . ." The man finally shook his head. "Sorry, dear. That's all I remember. I'll think about it and let you know."

"Thanks again!" Waving at him brightly, Kuki pushed out of the door and back into the street. Her hands clutched at the candy as though she had found a new treasure that would last her a lifetime. As she began to walk, she felt lighter and happier than she had before, as though a piece had fallen into place that had been missing.

Without warning, she began to skip, and her feet fell back into the pattern with ease. It only took a few seconds to start, and then she was flying down the street, her hair whipping out behind her and the wind hurling into her face like a waterfall. It felt like she was soaring, as though she was unstoppable and that nothing could bring her back down to the earth.

Except, of course, for the man who had appeared out of nowhere.

Two bodies collided, and Kuki toppled over and hit the sidewalk. After a cry of surprise escaped her, she put a hand against her head and began to look around, both for the candy and for the face of the person she had hurtled into.

He was immediately bent down to help her, and she paused in surprise once more as he held out the bag to her. She was immediately all apologies, scrambling for some words of explanation while she fumbled to take the bag from him.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I was just, I mean, the day was so, and, well, I didn't see-"

He chuckled. "It's fine, really." Although deeper and warmer, Kuki felt that she'd heard the voice before, and when the realization struck, she quickly lifted her eyes to meet him while her mind went haywire and tried to deny what she had suddenly thought to be true. _It can't be._

But it was. Rougher, taller, and darker, but it was. The same blonde hair, now longer and more wind-swept than before. The same green eyes, only barely visible behind the curtain of his hair. The same lopsided smirk that had always carried such a smug aura with it.

"Do I know you?"

Her voice came out high-pitched and breathless as she clutched the bag to her chest and shied away from the figure who appeared so familiar. It was _him_, the boy from her dream, except older and different and yet completely and utterly the same.

The question seemed to surprise him, although he appeared to mask it over quickly. "No, I don't think so." His eyes were suspicious, and were carefully analyzing her face. Kuki matched his expression with a defiant one of her own, and finally he relaxed, holding out a hand to her. "My name is Wally. I'm very sorry for getting in the way of your. . . skipping."

The grin on his face made her feel defensive. "I can't help it if some of us enjoy life a little more than others."

Once again, his eyes narrowed, as though he was mulling over something. The rest of his face was entirely benevolent. "I suppose not. Do you have a name, or shall I just call you Skippy?"

"What makes you think you'll be calling me?" She couldn't help but tease him a little, trying to get a register on his personality. This wasn't the boy from her dreams; it appeared that he'd grown from a child Prince Charming into nothing more than a boy from the streets.

"I'd hoped that I might." His tone was a little too innocent, and Kuki didn't trust it at all, even though she wanted to trust him with her entire being, more than anything.

"Kuki Sanban. It's a pleasure to meet you." She finally shook the outstretched hand and was startled when a jolt ripped through her skin, bringing her nerves to life and sending her skin tingling. And from the look on his face, he felt it, too, and he yanked his hand away from her. She tried to hastily brush at her blouse, just to find something to do with her hands.

"Where do you-"

Her cell phone went off in her purse, and Kuki pulled an expression of apology. It was a text from Abby, reminding her that they had planned on going to the movies today. "Crap!" Kuki shoved the phone in her purse and glanced back at Wally, whose eyes had never left her face, as though he was searching for something. "I'm sorry, I really have to go. It, uhm, really, it was nice to meet you."

But that wasn't good enough. Not by a long shot. Not after she'd finally found him. "I'll be seeing you around?" she asked tentatively, hugging herself tighter and trying not to sound too eager.

"Definitely." She didn't have time to decode what was meant by his too-quick answer, and so she waved goodbye to him briefly and then took off down the street toward her home. As she ran, she could almost feel his eyes burning into the back of her jacket as his gaze followed her. The feeling made her skin burn a deep scarlet.

_He recognized me_. Kuki bit her lip and tried to run faster, away from his invasive gaze_. I just know it._


	5. It's Not Stalking, It's Following Slyly

**Another fun-filled chapter in the adventures of hormone-filled Kuki and Wally!**

**Hahaha, I'm having so much fun with this story.**

**I have class in ten minutes, so I can't chat. But you guys are awesome and I really, really need the book Catching Fire with a burning need that is consuming me. To Amazon! Read The Hunger Games. It's AMAZING.**

**Enjoy this chapter! I really hope you do! :D**

**Disclaimer: Still don't own. If I did, I'd buy. . . stuff. Lots of stuff.**

**Love, Sadie**

--

The door slammed with more force than necessary, rattling the wooden frame that held it shut. The ensuing footsteps were just as sharp as the figure stormed through the darkness to a tiny lamp beside a worn-out couch. Immediately he collapsed upon it, letting out an angry breath of air and putting his head into his callused hands. Inside his skull, there was a furious pounding that threatened to drive him up the unforgiving walls of insanity.

"Wally." The hoarse voice startled Wally into looking up, where he met the concerned eyes of Hoagie Gilligan. The sight of him was always welcome, and always pleasant despite the fact that the boy looked to have been tossed about by sleep. He had lengthened and thinned, although his features still held that jolly twinkle that he'd always had in his younger years. On top of his crop of copper hair sat his pair of aviator goggles, a flag of his still-strong love for the sky. "You okay?"

"No," Wally snapped, instantly regretting the way his voice lashed out. Hoagie paused unsurely and then sat down across from him, entwining his hands and waiting for some kind of explanation. The patient look on his face was maddening, and yet a relief to the side of Wally that just wanted someone to talk to.

Reaching into his jacket pocket, Wally pulled out the photo of 10-year-old Kuki Sanban and showed it to Hoagie. The other male took the photograph and examined it, with no look of recognition on his thoughtful face. "Do you know her?" Wally asked softly, watching for any signs in Hoagie's expression.

"I feel like I do." Hoagie bent closer, squinting his eyes in the dim light and running them over the girl's picture again. "But no, not anything that I can tell you." He held the photo back out to Wally and cocked his head with a curious expression. "Who is she? You're not perving all over children, are you?"

"As if." Scoffing, Wally stood, shoving the photo back into his pocket. He began to pace the room, glaring irritatedly into the air as thought he might fry the very particles in the air with his gaze. If he was capable of laser vision, their little home would have been in flames within seconds. "It's exactly like you said. I feel like I know her, but I don't. Is that weird? Are we going insane?"

"I dunno." Hoagie settled back in his seat and rested his head on the cushion. His eyes were tired but he appeared to be fighting valiantly to stay awake. "I could just be that we knew her as a kid or something."

Wally shook his head, rubbing a hand through his hair while he thought. "Impossible. I was friends with Thatcher as a kid, and he doesn't know her at all." He let out a small guttural growl and tried to shake off the feeling he had that was poking at the back of his mind. "Go to bed. I'll be up for a little longer."

"G'night." Hoagie nodded and wandered off towards his bedroom, clicking out some of the lights behind him. If there was one reason that Wally liked being friends with Hoagie, it was because he was so compliant and easy to talk to. There was no dangerous edge, like there was with Thatcher. There was jut a general, pure friendship that he had felt the minute that he had met eyes with the pleasant boy.

Frustrated, Wally sat down again, staring at the pair of violet eyes that only stared back at him, unmovingly. His face was set in a deep frown as he swept his gaze over the photo again.

_Who _are_ you?_

--

Truth be told, Wally hated the public stores.

They were so noisy and crowded, and the noise seemed to come from everywhere at once, pushing into the skull with no barriers to protect the frustrated mind. If he wasn't following the girl, he would have left immediately and gone to find Thatcher or someone to hang around with all day. But, no, he had to follow her as she did her errands and other commonplace things that were particularly boring and annoying.

He was trying to figure out how to glean information from her. The conversation from before had yielded nothing, save for a headache and a few laughs. She had been _skipping_. Shaking his head in disbelief, Wally continued to follow her at a safe distance, while looking appropriately distracted by other things.

It was a long while before she was finally in a more secluded part of town, very carefully balancing her packages in her arms. Besides grocery shopping, she had gone looking for books, toys, and picked up a few more delicate dresses at a cleaning service. The sight of the petite girl trying to carry her load of packages down the street was _incredibly_ amusing, and after a while Wally finally felt sorry enough for her that he went to offer her his services.

And get some information, of course.

"Hey, Skippy," he purred in her ear, laughing inwardly when she jumped and sent a few of her bags toppling to the ground. Her eyes whirled around to meet his, where she gave him a sharp look of unamusement before trying to grab the fallen packages with the very ends of her fingers. Wally considered leaving her to try to rebalance them, but that would have put him on her blacklist, and for now, he needed to appear a regular, helpful citizen.

"Let me." He bent down, and with one smooth motion, he had more than half of her bags in his arms. They were light and easy to carry, which left him amused at the thought that she wasn't as strong as her gaze made her out to be. _Her bark is definitely bigger than her bite. _

She appeared to be surprised by his sudden assistance, but he pretended not to notice. Balancing the weight that he had taken on inside his arms, he shot her his trademark grin. "So, Skippy, where to?"

"My name isn't Skippy," she told him with a gentle roll of her eyes. The lack of her previous load had allowed her to straighten slightly, and Wally was surprised to find that she was almost as tall as he was.

He shrugged as though this piece of information didn't mean anything to him. "I know that. Where to?" It was a little pleasing, how well this little ploy had worked out. Now he could find out where she lived, too, instead of just tracking her movements from when she left work. That would make things so much easier.

She regarded him carefully for a minute, before finally shrugging and turning to walk away, down the sidewalk. "This way." Fortunately for him, she was walking to the less-crowded part of town and away from the annoying bustle of people, which left a perfect opportunity for him to make polite conversation. Polite, inquisitive, I-need-to-find-out-information-about-you-that-might-make-me-seem-like-a-stalker conversation.

"You're quiet today," he commented breezily, catching up to her with ease. "Are you always this welcoming to people, or am I just special?"

She shot him a look out of the corner of her eye – a curious one that made him wonder what she was thinking. "Are you always this irritating to people, or am I just special?" The slight curve of her lips signaled that she was teasing him, and the thought made him laugh aloud. Truly, he had not expected her to have a sarcastic wit behind her sweet-like-candy smile.

"Just making conversation." His voice was still a level too innocent, but he figured that she wouldn't notice. And if she did, there could be no possible way for her to detect what his real purpose actually was. "So you're Kuki Sanban. Tell me, Kuki Sanban, what do you like to do?"

She was a habitual person, he noticed. He could tell when she was thinking, because her head would tilt slightly to the side and her lips would purse. It was a few moments before she fished out an answer for him, and the answer surprised him. "Laugh."

Well, that was annoying. Not her answer, but the fact that Wally was beginning to realize that despite his best efforts, he couldn't predict what she was going to do, or say. She seemed to be her own enigma, dancing, or skipping, to the pattern of her own beat. It was going to make this much harder than he had ever imagined.

He was going to have to play it carefully. Which is why he waited until they were walking past the playground when he casually remarked, "Kids are so cruddy loud." He turned his head toward the shrieking and giggling crowd of children as though watching them, although his attention was all on her out of the corner of his eye, ready to read her reaction.

Instead of agreeing with him, her lips turned upward and she looked at the playground with something that could only be described as the greatest affection. Was the girl insane? "I love them. They're so happy."

This was a response that he realized that he should remember. Whenever a teenager had a liking for kids, there was a greater possibility that they were reconnected with the Kids Next Door. Even if her reaction seemed to imply a simple sentimental feeling for the laughter that was echoing through the yard and into the streets. Curious.

"If that's your definition of children, happiness, then what exactly are you? About six?" He smirked at her, although behind the jest was a thin layer of admiration that it would have been difficult for her to detect. He had never met someone that was so easily pleased, and the result was refreshing. She seemed to radiate joy from her very pores.

She laughed. It was the first time that he had heard her laugh, and the sound was so familiar that it seemed to send a million jolts right into his very core. It was as though he had recorded that laughter and stored the file in his brain, and that he was playing it again, the sound was so exact.

"Five," she responded, with a grin. "What does that make you?"

Playing along with her, he appeared to ponder the thought greatly, before his answer came out in utter seriousness. "Thirty-two."

She slapped his shoulder and and shook her head, with whispers of laughter still on her lips. "Then we need to tap into your inner child," she informed him loftily, hugging her bags closer to her. At first, he was curious as to the nature of her offer, but he pushed that aside when he realized that this was another opportunity for him to try to find some information.

"How do you propose we do so?" he asked, lifting an eyebrow at her. Her amused expression was one that he found himself enjoying, although he didn't know why. It certainly wasn't because it made her appear a little more attractive than she already was. They were in a more secluded area of the neighborhood now, and the trees hanging above them created a nice shade.

He was waiting for her to say anything that might give her away as a sympathetic host to the Kids Next Door. Anything could prove her a traitor to her age. But once again, her answer evaded his suspicion and proved not only entirely innocent, but intriguing as well. "After a food fight, we'd engage in an all-out war that would include water balloons and whipped cream. And once you would summon your inner child, we'd go and swing on the swings in the park until the chains snap."

Strange.

That idea sounded somewhat fun.

But completely immature, Wally reminded himself. Something that a teenager wouldn't do. Either she was a few clowns short of a circus, or he had a real trouble case on his hands.

Suddenly the girl stopped and turned to the house in front of them. "Here we are. Thank you for the help." She reached out to take the bags from him, and he carefully set them inside her arms, trying to retain balance. It was comical to watch her knees buckle slightly, but he couldn't help but feel a little sorry for her.

"I'll see you later," he commented smoothly, innocently, as though it was a possibility but not certain. Fortunately for him, he knew it was certain.

She paused slightly and narrowed her eyes at him, pursing her lips. "Are you sure we haven't met before?"

The question struck a chord in him that made him fumble about for a minute inside his mind. It was just what he had been wondering, back when he had been talking to Hoagie. On the outside, however, his face was a mask of complete calm. "Positive."

Slowly, she nodded, and then staggered away toward her door. When she looked back at him, he gave her a little wave, smirking, and then took off in a quick walk down the street. He waited until she was out of hearing distance, and then took out his phone and mashed a few buttons.

"Wally?" Thatcher's voice came through within seconds. "Did you get what you needed?"

"Tell Lark I'm going to need more time." Wally looked over his shoulder at the house, trying to picture the girl inside, putting away her groceries. "She's. . . difficult to crack."

_And I'm not ready to let her go._


	6. Even If the Sky is Falling Down

**I had typed up like freakin' half of this, and then the stupid school computer went and blitzed all over me, and so I had to type it AGAIN. It was not a happy moment. But I'm finished now!**

**Once again, I update this instead of Operation TUTOR. For those of you who are ready to skewer me with some sort of pointy object, make peace. I promise that I will update Operation TUTOR before I do another chapter of this.**

**I had fun with this chapter, I will not lie. And it made me hungry. But I have class soon, bummer for me!**

**Disclaimer: Codename: Kids Next Door does not belong to me, nor do the lyrics for "Down." Only Thatcher and Nikki, those devious kids.**

**I really really hope you enjoy this chapter. Love you guys! 3 Have an awesome weekend!**

**Love, Sadie**

--

Sharp heels clicked smartly on the floor as the sound crashed through the empty silence. Nikki reached up and pulled her swinging hair out of her face and into a tight ponytail. Her icy eyes were narrowed and flicking about, looking for any sign of trouble in the white halls, but as always, there was none. Their headquarters were a fortress.

Finally she reached the predetermined room and pushed the door open, immediately spotting Thatcher sitting at the small table inside. The expression on his face was not pleasant, and for a brief moment the girl wondered if she might have done something wrong. But the idea was dismissed almost insantly; Nikki was under the impression that she could do no wrong.

"Yes?" she asked softly, closing the door behind her to retain secrecy. Thatcher had called her here on her cell phone with a cryptic message, so she had to assume that there was some degree of importance that she was previously unaware of.

He turned in his chair to face her, and his voice came out like a whip, like she was a lioness that he needed to tame. "Nikki, you must be careful!"

She was somewhat surprised by his tone, and her eyes narrowed slightly. Wasn't she _always_ careful? "What exactly are you referring to?"

His glare was cold, as though this should have been completely obvious. "I'm talking about _Wally_."

"Ah." Now it was getting slightly clearer. "What did I say wrong?"

"I've told you this." Getting out of his seat, he crossed over to her and leaned in until she could feel his hot breath on her face. Each word game out sharp and jutting. "You _cannot_ bring up his childhood, Nikki, ever. Or memories of the past, or days of old. Nothing. It is _vital_ that he does not know or even begin to remember that he was once a member of the Kids Next Door. All he is allowed to know is that they are his enemies."

"So, the football?" She was leaning backwards, trying to get out of the range of his unquenchable rage.

He snorted. "A lie. Wally and I have never played football."

"And his file?" Nikki quirked an eyebrow at him. "Won't it surface? Each operative has a file."

"We have his." Thatcher's voice became threatening. "Do you hear me, Nikki? _Ever_. We create his past _for_ him, and we do not allow him to question it."

Slowly, carefully, Nikki nodded. "Understood."

--

"I'm home," Kuki called, letting her bag drop onto the floor and sighing as the weight disappeared from her shoulder. She could hear noises in the kitchen that signaled that Abby was home, and she let out a silent prayer that the sounds meant that the girl had whipped up something for her pitifully desolate stomach.

Luckily, Abby rarely disappointed. "Come on in, Abby's got some pasta for you." The smell had wafted into the living room, and just a small whiff of it made Kuki's stomach growl hungrily.

"You're a lifesaver." Kuki dropped into the chair and dug eagerly into the plate of steaming pasta, letting the taste explode inside her mouth in the form of a creamy alfredo sauce. There were various spices hinted inside the flavor, all of which Kuki couldn't even begin to guess. Abby had magical cooking fingers, she was convinced of it. "This is amazing."

"Thanks." Abby took a seat across the table from her and began to appraise her carefully. The girl's eyes missed nothing, from the tired eyes to the crease between the brow. It made Kuki both self-conscious and grateful to have a roommate like Abby, who could read her in a single glance. "You okay, girl?"

Kuki nodded and tried to swallow the mouthful of pasta that she had shoved in during her desperate attempt to appease her stomach. "Yeah, uh, yes. Just a little tired." Her nimble fingers brushed a few strands of hair behind her ear.

Abby gave her a grin that usually meant trouble. Kuki had a love-hate relationship with that grin. "Abby knows just the thing to cheer you up. Hurry and finish."

--

An hour later, Kuki found herself dressed in what was either the most embarassing or the most artistic dress that she had ever had the honor of wearing. It was a result of Abby's creative eye when it came to fashion, and Kuki wasn't sure what she was more scared of – the way the dress wrapped around her and hugged her body like seaweed, or the fact that the dress _was_ the color of seaweed.

Abby herself was stunning, in a black dress that clung to her curves and draped itself on her limbs like liquid fabric. Kuki was convinced that she had saved the nicer dress for herself, but Abby was absolutely firm with her and wouldn't let her take the black dress. Apparently green was good for her skin or something.

"Can I change?" Kuki asked for what might have been the millionth time. She had lost track amidst her whining.

"No." It was amazing how much patience the other girl had, for that was probably her millionth time denying Kuki of what the girl wanted most at the moment. Abby ushered her into the car and took the wheel, screeching out of the driveway with all the caution of a stunt-driver.

Kuki leaned her head on her palm. "Where are you taking me? This is kidnap and is illegal in all fifty states." Despite her moaning, she was curious as to where Abby could possibly be taking her. Knowing the adventurous girl, it probably involved either skydiving or explosions.

"Abby's not telling you, now hush." It was a quiet car ride after that, for Kuki had settled down to staring glumly out the window, and Abby had turned on her music and was dancing as much as she could for a person who needed to keep their eyes on the road. Kuki was not entirely convinced of their safety when Abby was behind the wheel.

Finally, the girl pulled into the parking lot of a small building that was dark on the outside. Kuki lifted an eyebrow at her, but the girl merely beckoned her to walk along with her. Sighing, Kuki followed her and helped her push the thick doors open.

They were immediately blasted with loud, pounding music and bright lights that seemed to whiz around the room at a furious pace. There were people everywhere, shaking it on the dancefloor with all of their hearts and souls. Kuki felt stunned as she turned to Abby and tried to shout over the music. "We used to come here! Years ago!"

"You got it!" Abby shouted back with a grin. Only a few years ago, during their early teenage years, the two had taken a liking to going out and dancing beneath the whirling lights. It was intoxicatingly fun, and a good release for stress. Kuki felt herself happily move toward the crowd, into the blindingly colorful lights and away from the dim reaches of the world outside.

She didn't recognize the song, but that didn't matter. Within minutes, the two had met up with a few old friends, and they began to dance in their own little group on the outskirts of the crowd. The stress rolled off her in waves, and Kuki was suddenly grateful to Abby for dragging her there and making sure that she was going to have a good time.

The walls, painted with glitter, reflected light across the room, and when the song ended, Kuki found herself cheering louder than anyone. The light around the room seemed to inspire a kind of happiness that, although it couldn't last forever, lifted her spirits for the time being and made her forget about everything and everyone and just let herself go.

When the beats to the next song began to play, Kuki felt a squeal release itself from her throat. "I love this song!" she said breathlessly, getting into the mood easily. Abby grinned and took a hold of her wrist and began to pull her into the middle of the crowd. "Wait, Abby- Abby, no, I don't- wait!" Kuki felt herself begin to quake as they halted in the very middle of the bodies that were swarmed around them.

"Don't think!" Abby shouted over the music. "Just dance!" Kuki felt eyes move toward them as she carefully began to dance. She longed to be like Abby, who had already broken loose and who was gaining favor with the crowd by dancing with no barriers left. Shakily, Kuki began to follow her lead, and before long, a circle had formed around the pair as they let it all out in the center of the dancefloor under the burning lights as the words began to sound.

_Baby are you down, down, down, down, down,  
Down, down,  
Even if the sky is falling down,  
Down, down_

The pressure was pounding into her skull, but Kuki felt herself learn to ignore it as she lost herself in the music. Her lips moved slightly to the words, and she tried to drown herself in the meaning. She was getting down, down, down, down down. She was letting it all go.

_You oughta know, tonight is the night to let it go,  
Put on a show, i wanna see how you lose control_

The crowd erupted into a cheer as Abby played them with her hips. She was a master at stringing them along like her own instrument, and Kuki felt the words sink into her own mind, taunting her with their harmonic meanings. Lose control.

_So leave it behind 'cause we, have a night to get away,  
So come on and fly with me, as we make our great escape._

This was her night to get away. Throwing herself into the middle, Kuki let her limbs finally begin to move with the music, playing against the melody with their own tantalizing movements. She was making her own escape, into this music that would take her mind away from life.

_So baby don't worry, you are my only,  
You won't be lonely, even if the sky is falling down,  
You'll be my only, no need to worry,  
Baby are you down down down down down,  
Down, Down,  
Baby are you down down down down down,  
Down, Down,  
Even if the sky is falling down_

The crowd began to cheer for her as she sank to the floor and up again, and the roar was intoxicating. She was so into the beat that she didn't notice Abby smirk and melt into the crowd, leaving her alone on the dancefloor. She was a dancer, she was an artist, painting a picture of movement for the world to see. She was letting herself pour out into them as they watched her fall down like the sky.

She had almost gotten completely lost in the music when the world suddenly came slamming into her senses and she realized that Abby had left her. Violet eyes widening into a panic, she looked around wildly for the girl and felt her courage flow away from her.

_Oh crap._

--

_So leave it behind 'cause we, have a night to get away,  
So come on and fly with me, as we make our great escape,_

The song continued to play, even though the dancer had stopped moving. Wally didn't know what had triggered her panic, but he realized it when she looked around for the girl who had been dancing with her. A chuckle escaped him. The girl was shy in the face of a crowd.

He had followed her and her friend there in hopes of catching them doing something related to the Kids Next Door, but what he had gotten was so much more interesting. The girl couldn't even _know_ how mesmerizing she was, like her limbs were made of fluid and she was simply flowing intricately to the music. It had been a pleasure to watch her.

But now she was terrified, and her little friend had disappeared. Wally watched her edge toward the crowd, intending to lose herself in it. Finally, smugly, he made his way into the center and grabbed a hold of her tiny hand, smirking at her when her eyes widened at the sight of him.

He pulled her back into the center and began to dance, a more fire-like imitation of her moves before. While she might have been fluid, he was furious, screeching across the floor and sending the crowd whistling as he, too, lowered himself to the floor as the music pushed him down, down, down, down, down.

When she hesitated, he smirked and wiggled his fingers at her, beckoning her back to him. Slowly, she moved next to him, and he led her in a dance that was fast-paced and as upbeat as the song. The chorus sounded again, and together, he pulled her to the floor and back up again, admiring the way that her body bent with his. Her frame seemed to fit with his, like they had been dance partners in a life before.

Suddenly the tone changed and the faster part began to play. Wally knew this song, and he knew how to play the crowd. Smirking, he continued to lead Kuki in a pattern with the words of the song.

_Even if the sky is falling down like she supposed to be,  
She gets down low for me,  
Down like her temperature, 'cause to me she zero degree._

He had her wrapped around him like a coat, even though the room itself a was hot from the perpetual movement. He took the moment of closeness to get a grip on her sides, tossing her into the air and catching her again. Her face was flushed with a breathlessness that had nothing to do with the song, and he continued on, encouraged by the way her body moved with his.

_She cold, overfreeze,  
I got that girl from overseas,  
Now she my miss America,  
now can I be her soldier please,  
I'm fighting for this girl,  
I'm a battlefield of love,_

He sent the crowd a smart salute, laughing when they cheered him on. To them, he embodied a soldier, fighting for the girl in his arms. He could tell that she was getting into it, too, for she herself was laughing when he slid across the floor on his knees and scooped her up, his own personal victory on this battlefield of a dancefloor.

That was the breaking of their barrier, and he knew that she had let him in, now. As the chorus began to play again, he took her hand and did not let go, leading her around the floor and spinning her. She laughed as he dipped her down, down, down, down, down, only to pull her back up again and spin her around inside of his arms.

They were not a pair, they were a single unit, moving together with some kind of chemistry that Wally could not guess the origins of. She seemed to guess his movements before he made them, and responded with a kind of grace that he could not ever hope to achieve. With his commanding movements and the gentle sway of her curves, they were unexplicably connected and together, they had the crowd in an uproar.

The song ended faster than he would have liked, and at the last beat he held her frozen against him, their faces a few mere inches apart. She was breathing heavily, and he couldn't look away from her violet gaze that held his eyes to her face. Around them there was clapping and whistling, but he didn't properly hear it until she looked away from him, sending a glare at the girl that had reappeared.

Hastily, Wally let his arms drop from her waist and straightened to face the pair of girls who were now in a miniature argument. He found that even an angry Kuki was nothing to be scared of, for her fury was nothing compared the other girl's merriment. After a few seconds of Kuki berating the girl for leaving her, the conversation suddenly turned and Wally found that both pairs of eyes were suddenly on him.

"Wally," he introduced himself to the girl, whose gaze was analytical as she looked at him. Trust any girl to turn a judging eye on the guy that her friends had held any interactions with. Finally, he appeared to have passed the test, for she stuck out a hand.

"Abby Lincoln. Nice t'meetcha." Her attention returned to Kuki instantly and a smile took over her lips. "You were fantastic, girl! Abby told ya that this would be fun!"

Kuki laughed giddily, obviously still reeling from the experience. "I c-couldn't have done it without Wally, that was so scary!"

"What are you talking about?" Abby grinned. "You were a hit. And Abby bets Wally agrees, right?"

Wally started slightly as the attention was on him again. He felt caught, realizing that he couldn't deny it without lying, let along angering both girls, but that if he agreed, they might put a meaning behind it that wasn't there. He meant to make a dismissive remark, but instead, he felt himself nod. "Amazing."

The girl, Abby, began to pull Kuki away, and Wally felt himself begin to follow before remembering that he wasn't a part of their crowd. Instead, he watched them leave, and turned to leave himself. There was no evidence here. He was surprised when Kuki suddenly appeared in front of him, having evaded Abby for a few seconds.

"Thank you," she whispered, still shaking slightly. Her lips attempted a tiny smile at him, which he returned before putting a hand on her shoulder and ignoring the spark that jumped inside his skin.

Leaning down to whisper in her ear, he said softly, "It was all you."

With that, he smiled and walked away, feeling a strange lifting in his chest as he did so. He didn't dare look back, for fear of meeting her eyes and letting her find in his eyes a feeling that he denied was even there. It didn't matter that he'd had more fun tonight than he'd had in a long time. It didn't matter that, as they had danced together, he had felt a connection between them that had made every single movement together seem _right_.

Or, at least, it wasn't supposed to matter.

But strangely. . . it did.


	7. I Think He's Secretly A Creeper

**Finally, an update for this story. Which I am thoroughly enjoying – it's going to get so interesting, so fast. I hope you all are prepared.**

**This chapter is a little shorter than the others, but that's just because it's a bridge for the next chapter, which, if I write it right, should be pretty huuuuge. So we'll see.**

**I love you all, my lovely reviewers. You make me smile when my day just sucks. I adore each and every one of you.**

**I hope you like this chapter~**

**Disclaimer: Still don't own. If I did, I'd buy Mr. Alister's candy shop. Yummm.**

**Have a great rest of the week!**

**Love, Sadie**

**--**

_This time, the air smelled like sunshine._

_If Abby had been there, in her dream, the girl would have scoffed softly, "Sunshine doesn't have a smell." But it did; it wafted into the nose with a warm, fire-cracker scent mixed with the faintest hint of grass. Before even opening the lids of her eyes, Kuki could tell that she was outside during the summer in this dream._

_And so she let her eyes open and stood up to take in the view around her. There was a sea of grass around her that billowed in waves created by the breeze, and large trees that reached for the heavens with long, spindly fingers. In the distance, she could see the treehouse that often made an appearance in her dreams, and it brought a smile to her face._

_She waited for her dream-self to take control of her muscles, and wasn't surprised when she began to skip through the grass toward a batch of wildflowers. They sprung out of the grass in a multitude of colors; bright yellows and scarlet reds and even the occasional blushing pink. Her dream-self was delighted with them._

"_Kuki!"_

_And then he was there. He appeared to have aged since the last time she had seen him in her dreams, for he was slightly taller and his features had become more defined. Kuki would guess that they were nearing their teen years by this point. But underneath the changes, he was exactly the same. The same green eyes. The same lopsided smile. The same flop of hair that he never bothered to push out of his eyes._

_Her dream-self broke into a smile and pointed excitedly at the flowers. "Look what I found!" Kuki never got tired of hearing herself speak at that age – such a breathless, cheerful, _bouncing_ voice. As though she had taken all the happiness in the world and captured it inside of herself, spilling it around with every word that she spoke._

_The boy's nose wrinkled slightly at the sight of the flowers. She figured he would – _flowers were girly, remember, dream-self?_ – but he didn't seem to mind as she began to pick them one by one, arranging them inside of her fist. Instead, he merely sat beside her, tipping back his head to let the sun pour down onto it._

"_I'm getting decommissioned next week," he murmured to her, and the sentence confused Kuki. Not only was she unaware of what he was being decommissioned from, but it made her wonder if she had been part of it, too. The expression on his face was mellow enough to make her heart ache for him._

_Her dream-self let out a sigh and let her hand fall, only barely clutching the flowers now. "You'll forget me," she whispered, turning to him and sitting down beside him. Their knees were just barely touched against each other, but neither of them seemed to notice._

_His voice was thick with conviction. "Never." They chanced a glance at each other, and Kuki could feel the fire spread across her cheeks upon meeting his emerald gaze. The boy attempted a weak smile, one that made her smile in response._

_Carefully, she held out the flowers to him and he begrudgingly took them. Their sweet scent had drifted into the air around the pair. "Promise?" she whispered to him, reaching toward him and letting her bare fingertips brush against his skin._

_In response, his fingers curled around her own, and he stared at their clasped hands for a long time. His skin was rough against hers, but entirely warm. "Promise."_

As much as she longed to see what would happen after that, the world called to her and pulled Kuki smugly out of her sleep.

Frustrated, she glared at the surrounding room and willed it to change back to that grassy field that was sprinkled with sunbeams. It annoyed her that the world had developed a nasty habit of waking her up just when the dream was getting good.

But, no, that wasn't what was really bothering her.

Her morning routine was given no thought at all. Teeth. Face. Shower. Towel off. Her mind was only giving her muscles one-word commands, saving the rest of her mind to ponder what she had glimpsed the night before.

Wrapping a bathrobe around herself, she shuffled into the kitchen and made herself a bowl of cereal that was far too sugary but that she couldn't stop eating, anyway. The little bits got caught between her teeth, but the sweet taste of it was enough to spur her brain into processing fast enough to form actual, coherent thoughts.

These dreams. . . they _had_ to be memories.

There was no other explanation.

Which meant that they knew each other, and that not only had they known each other, they had been closer. Not just friends and allies, but something more. Something that was young and new to both of them, and that they were just beginning to explore with something. . . something happened. Something hit.

She was mulling over the idea when a sharp knock sounded at her door. Grumbling something that sounded strangely similar to "annoying neighbors," she yanked open the door and shivered slightly as the cold morning air hit her face. And when she realized who was standing there, the shivers only increased.

He had opened his mouth to say something, although he stopped short upon glancing at her bathrobe and dripping wet hair, and ended up smirking instead. Her face took on a scarlet flame as his eyes moved back up to her face, one eyebrow loftily cocked. It was all she could do to refrain from slapping the smug look off of his face. "Am I interrupting something?"

"No." Kuki's voice, behind the many layers of sleep-driven hoarseness, was completely defensive. "W-what are you doing here?" Her glare fell short of intimidating him, and his nonchalant expression was flawless.

His face was all innocence as he pretended to consider that. "Well, I was just going to come see you, but if you're busy, I can always come back later after spreading your gossip all over the city." His mouth was set amusedly as her face took on a whole new shade of red. If she didn't know better, she would have said that he was enjoying her embarrassment.

Wait. He probably was.

"Just. . . just give me a second!" Glaring at him once more, she promptly slammed the door in his face and thoroughly enjoyed the satisfaction that it gave her. It was only a few short steps to her room, where she threw on the first outfit that she could get her hands on, and then only a couple more into the bathroom, where she tried to make sense of the tangled mess that was her hair.

Abby mumbled something into her pillow as Kuki rushed back out of the room, and then went right back to snoring. Triumphantly, Kuki made to open the front door again, only to find her porch empty.

The pang inside the pit of her stomach. . . it couldn't have been because of his absence. Of course not.

"I know you can hear me," she said aloud, glaring out into the street that was just barely brightened with the first rays of the morning light. "Don't pretend you can't." It was a guess, but it had proven to be correct; he emerged from the bushes on the side of their porch with a grin, his hands dug lazily into his pockets. His calm expression did not fool her. "What are you doing here?"

"I told you that already." His grinned widened. As much as Kuki enjoyed their constant bantering back and forth, it appeared that he was far more amused by it than she was. "Don't you listen, Skippy?"

"You give me a headache." Crossing her arms over her snug green sweater, she lifted her eyebrows to match his own. "I think you owe me a few more details than that." Her expression was still a carefully crafted look of unfazed peace, as though nothing he could say would ever shake her.

"Alright," he replied smoothly, and leaned against her doorframe – _too close for comfort, way too_ _close_ – and bent down into her face. "I am on your doorstep. The doorstep is a part of your house. This house is where you live. If you do the math, I do believe that this could mean that I'm on your doorstep to see you."

Too easy. No way was she going to let it be that easy for him. "You've seen me. So I guess I'll see you later then!" Her lips pulled into a full smile, the I'm-mocking-you-and-you-can't-do-anything-about-it smile that she usually saved for teasing Abby. But it worked so well in this situation.

He scoffed as though her words were nothing. "I have a proposition for you."

"Shoot."

He leaned closer – _way too close, what is he playing at?_ – and grinned. "You keep insisting that we knew each other. Right?"

Kuki nodded and wrapped her arms more tightly around her waist, trying to keep her breath steady as his close presence started to cloud her ability to think coherently. He was so frustrating sometimes. "Yeah."

"You have all day to prove it to me."

Her expression didn't change for a few seconds, and then it settled quickly into confusion. "What?"

He ran a hand through his hair. "You have all of today to prove to me that we knew each other. Favorite hangouts, pictures, anything. If you can't prove it to me by the end of the day, then we'll conclude that we have not met each other before now." His eyes darkened, as though that meant something that Kuki couldn't understand.

". . . Fine." Without second thought, Kuki reached out and took his hand, pulling him down the sidewalk after her. His palm was incredibly warm inside of hers, but she brushed that away.

Right now, she had a mission.

--

"Who does he honestly think he's playing?" Nikki purred into her cell, propping her feet up onto the table. Her mouth was curved up into a small grin as she digested this news with an interest that was far beyond her normal level of concern.

On the other end, Thatcher laughed. "I don't know. I suppose we could give them the benefit of the doubt. He could just be trying to get information from her."

"Please. It's more than that." Her voice became brighter. More amused. "He's not fooling us."

"We'll give him one last shot. If he blows it, we'll have to talk to the kid."

"I know you're fond of him, Thatch." Now she murmured, her tone dangerous. "But if he keeps acting like this, I'll take care of him myself."


	8. Irritation and Sorrow

**Oh man, I love this chapter so much. I don't know why, but I just do. It was the result of a long time of just sitting down and writing and writing and writing, and I think it turned out rather well. Wally's gotten himself into quite a mess.**

**Next will either be the next chapter of this, or a couple more one-shots. I'm not sure what they're going to be for (Teen Titans was really fun, and I think I have a couple more ideas for Kuki/Wally, but I don't know.) but I know that I'll enjoy writing them.**

**I have to go now so that I don't miss So You Think You Can Dance. :D I'll see you all later, and thanks again for the support! I really appreciate it!**

**I hope you enjoy this chapter!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Codename: Kids Next Door. Just Nikki and Thatcher, those crazy kids.**

**Love, Sadie**

_--_

_Where is she taking me?_

The electricity dancing between their palms seemed to tickling his nerves, almost tauntingly. He couldn't tell if she could feel it, or if it was just him, but something was happening because of the contact of their hands. Her porcelain skin was so smooth compared to the rough edges of his own hands, and it made him feel almost ashamed of the state of his skin. Had working for the I.U. made his own skin unwelcoming and unpleasant?

The girl whose hand he held was currently pulling him into the city, into a part of town that he couldn't recall ever visiting. She was quite obviously excited about the adventure, and it was insanely easy to picture her in shining armor, with a lance under one arm and a shield in the other as she rode some white stallion into the sunset with heroic music trumpeting in the background. If he wasn't so convinced of her normalcy, he would have wondered to himself if she was entirely human. Her unnatural enthusiasm for life suggested some sort of strangeness that no one else possessed.

"Where are you taking me?" he questioned softly, when the silence had begun to hang over them. He did not expect her to have any proof; if she had nothing, he would turn her in as a regular citizen and wash his hands of her. He would forget this piece of his life and return to the I.U. and tell them that he was just a little "off" and that he would be back to normal. And everything would become the same, again.

Except that he would never forget her.

Her eyes were contemplative; he could see the gears in her mind turning in the way that she gripped his hand tightly, and the way that her pupils were narrowed and whizzing around the streets as though looking for something. But she seemed to know where she was going, for her directions were precise and she did not hesitate before choosing the streets that they turned on. "A place than you and I used to visit as children," she said softly, so quietly that he wasn't sure if he heard her correctly.

The statement proved that she was convinced that they had known each other, but how would it prove anything to him? His lips were tight against each other as he considered the consequences of his rash decision to give her a chance. Although it had seemed a good idea at the time, now he wasn't so sure about it. If she couldn't prove it to him, he had basically given himself permission to disappear from her life, pretending that nothing had ever happened between them.

Which is technically what he was supposed to do.

"How do you know we supposedly visited this place?" Could it simply be her overactive imagination, playing on an initial attraction to him by creating a past for them that had never really existed? Neither answer sounded plausible. Frustrated, Wally glared at the ground in front of his feet. Why had he let himself get into this mess?

Oh, yeah. Because of her. "I just. . . . remember. Vaguely." There was something strange about the way he answered, but he found himself captivated in the way that even her voice seemed to scrape against a string of his memory, and how her smile made him feel slightly happier, as though memories were attached to it that were important to him.

This was why he had given her a chance. For the opportunity to explain to him why she seemed to haunt the complexities of his memories.

Finally they seemed to come to a halt, in front of a worn-down store that initially disgusted Wally. The paint was chipping off and the parking lot was near empty. Had she brought him here to see some kind of dump, as some kind of game? But she did not hesitate as she pushed open the door, sending a chime into the store to alert the owner to their presence, and Wally was surprised to see what lined the shelves.

Candy. Hundreds of different kinds of candy, all of them in brightly-colored wrappers and crinkling plastic bags. His eyes widened as the names seemed to come from nowhere, popping to his lips as his eyes moved from package to package. Fireballs. Whizzbees. Lollipops, Fruit Chews, Chocolate Drops, and even Firecrackers, which Wally could almost feel popping inside of his mouth like he was eating them at the moment. His mind was reeling as he went from aisle to aisle, somehow remembering the taste of each piece of candy that he was certain he couldn't remember eating.

Kuki was already picking up a package of fruit-flavored sweets, and she went to the counter and tapped a finger on the bell. Wally was confused as to how this store proved anything until suddenly a man shuffled out of the storage area in the back, a man that seemed so incredibly familiar that Wally struggled to remember how to suck in air. He watched in fascination as Kuki greeted the man as though she had known him her entire life, and he responded in a similar manner, practically delighted over her appearance in his tiny shop.

"I brought someone with me," he heard Kuki tell the man after he commented on her green sweater that was slightly too big for her. "Maybe you'll remember him, too." She gestured to Wally and he obediently trotted over to the counter, turning up his face so that the man could see into his eyes. The effect was exactly the opposite as he could have imagined; while he expected the man to deny having known him at all, the man's face instead softened into a smile that was toothy and took up half of his face.

"Well, look at this." His voice was reminiscent as his eyes traveled up Wally's frame, and then back down. "Little Wallabee Beetles." His eyes crinkled as he smiled warmly, like a grandfather gazing upon his grandchild after years of separation. "You're not so little anymore." That sentence in itself was proof to Wally that he had, indeed, known Wally as a child. No one looking at Wally could guess that he had actually been very short in his younger years.

Wally leaned on the counter and returned the smile, and it was only slightly forced. In truth, he was fascinated by the man's memory of him and of the small candy shop that seemed to create a delight in him. "You remember me?" Out of the corner of his eyes, he could see his female companion gently bite her bottom lip, as though she was busy _hoping_ very hard.

The man nodded, and Wally glanced down at his nametag for the first time. His name was Mr. Alister, and once again the name struck a familiar chord. "Of course I do. Always in here and grumbling about something or another. You had a likin' for those." His bony finger pointed itself at a stand on the far side, one that was painted red and orange and marked "Red Hots." The shiny red candies glinted in the florescent lights, and Wally felt his mouth begin to water at the idea of having one of those rolling on his tongue again.

He carefully took a bag of them and placed them onto the counter, pulling out a crumpled bill and handing it to Mr. Alister for the candy. He shook his head and gave the money back, smiling. "I let her have one for free, so I'll let you off the hook once, too." Wally smiled involuntarily and immediately ripped open one of the candies, popping it into his mouth and feeling the flame shoot across his taste buds like he'd eaten a match.

Kuki was watching his face carefully, and she seemed relieved when he grinned at the taste of the candy. Rolling one of them onto his palm, he held it out to her with a boyish grin. "Want one?" She eyed the sphere dubiously, obviously not trusting the explanatory name. But when he laughed at her, she snatched it from his palm and let it fall between her lips and onto her tongue.

At first, she seemed pleased by the taste, but when the fiery sensation began to roar to life, her eyes widened and she began to pant for air, gasping and waving her hands. "W-Wally!" He burst out laughing as she started to dance on the tips of her feet, sucking in oxygen as fast as she could and looking around for some source of cooling liquid to extinguish the flame on her tongue. His hysterical laughter only frustrated her, and finally she took the water bottle offered by Mr. Alister and began to guzzle it as fast as the laws of physics would allow her.

Wally, meanwhile, had collapsed against the counter, holding his stomach as he laughed at her desperate expression. "S-sorry," he gasped between breaths, shaking his head as she punched his arm and glared at him, her breathing coming quickly and trying to soothe the sensation that still lingered afterward.

"Jerk," she accused breathily, handing the bottle back to Mr. Alister with a shaking hand. He escaped into the kitchen to put the bottle away, but Wally suspected that it was really to hide his grin that had occurred while watching the distressed girl. Wally slid away to protect himself from any more sudden blows, but his grin stayed intact the entire time, for her flushed face was more amusing to him than her display only moments ago. "Keep that candy to yourself."

"Will do." He straightened and tried to wipe the grin off of his face, not entirely succeeding but feeling triumphant when her glare softened. Mr. Alister returned only a minute later, and he had also managed to hide his amusement. Instead, he gave the girl a warm smile and rung up her bag of candy, which she immediately slipped into her purse and then snapped it shut.

"Have a great day." Mr. Alister waved until the pair were out the door, and Wally realized that he was a shade happier than he had been when he had gone into the candy store, as though the entire thing had tapped into his younger self again. He pondered that idea until Kuki turned to him, looking upward at him while taking her bottom lip gently between her teeth once more. He didn't need to ask what her pleading expression was for; he knew already.

It took him a long while to respond, and then finally, with a long sigh that escaped him silently, he shook his head.

No. That wasn't enough to convince him.

Her expression seemed to crack in half, and it fell until her eyes were downcast and avoiding his face. She was so animated; her entire frame slumped downward as though she had taken on some great weight that was too much for her to carry. And he had just denied her the opportunity to let him carry some of it on his shoulders, instead.

"Do you. . . have anything else?" His voice was quiet, an attempt to make sure that he didn't hurt her anymore. From her expression, he could already conclude the answer, but he had to open up even the smallest window for her to find at least one more slip of evidence. When she flinched and her eyes began to search the tops of her shoes, he knew her answer.

"I. . . no. Not really." She shook her head glumly and let one of her hands rub against the top of her other limb. He wished that he could give her some sort of proof, something to convince him, but he couldn't. He didn't even know if it himself.

They began to walk down the road again, but this time they were slow and silent. Her shoes scraped against the sidewalk, the sound seemed to accuse him of creating these emotions inside of her. It would have taken everything and nothing at all to be able to run far away from here and begin life over again, and forget that he had ever been a part of any of this. And just live.

"Sorry," the girl said, finally, without glancing in his direction. "I guess. . . I was just deluding myself. I didn't mean to waste your time." She was still biting on her lower lip, and Wally wondered why it wasn't bleeding yet, with all of her worry and sorrow. He wanted her to stop gnawing on it. He wanted her to smile again.

It was so _frustrating_.

Everything seemed to bubble up inside of him, churning and exploding and spilling over the top and creating a disaster inside of him. Without hesitating, he slid in front of her, turning to meet her face-to-face. She stopped by almost crashing into him, and the moment she had stabilized herself, he cupped one hand around the curve of her cheek and bent down to press his lips to hers.

It wasn't like he'd thought it would be. His mouth was demanding, forceful, a result of his building frustration. He would have expected her to yank away from this apparent attack on her mouth, but instead of retreating, she responded.

Together, they created heat.

All of his irritation with his present situation weighed on him, pushing him forward and farther and faster. He coaxed her mouth open and explored it willingly, ignoring her tiny squeak of surprise. If he was bearing down on her, she was too timid to push him away, and her own tongue began to dance around his, in a synchronization that had been with them from the beginning. The lack of oxygen was dizzying, but the idea of pulling away from her now was enough to drive him only closer against her.

When he finally pulled back, she was gasping for breath. Her face, originally downcast, was now perfectly sculpted into an expression of shock. The flush that had touched upon her cheeks, the wide, innocent eyes, the way that her lips were still slightly parted, it all hammered against his brain with a loud beat – _remember, remember, remember _– and he felt guilt and a sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach – _why can't I remember? _– and it was all too much at once.

Then he was flying down the street, his shoes pounding against the pavement and his hands balled into fists. Behind him, her startled voice called his name once or twice, but he couldn't listen to that voice now – _why can't I remember?_ – and so he just kept running, down the streets and through the trees and over the hill and finally underneath a bridge, where he slid into the shadows and put his head on his knees and let out a strangled yell at the world around him.

Then he was silent for a long time, letting every accusation and thought that passed through his mind pound against his skull, until he was convinced that his head was going to explode from the inside. His cell phone rang, a tune that he could no longer remember the name of, and he snapped it open, barking into it. "What?!"

The voice on the other line was immediately soothing. "Wally, where are you? Are you alright?" Thatcher. The last person on the face of the earth that Wally wanted to talk to. He could throw his phone in the river down the bank and watch it float away and disappear, and let the world and Thatcher wonder where he was and why he had done so.

But he didn't. "No. What do you want?"

"We need to report soon. Do you have what you need?" The voice was so incredibly annoying that Wally wanted to just shut him up, but he couldn't, not without getting in trouble. His throat let out a deep, guttural growl that scraped against the sides of his lungs and made him feel a little better.

He took another deep breath – _focus, Wally, it's not that hard _– and then tried to steady the shaking fury that had become his voice. He took away all thoughts from his mind except the I.U. and one remaining, lingering frustration – _why can't I remember?_ – and then began to speak, slowly and purposefully. "Yes. I have what I need. I'll be there soon to report."

"And everything is normal?" There was an edge to Thatcher's voice that Wally didn't understand, but at the moment, he didn't really care.

"Why wouldn't it be?" His voice snapped into the phone and even though he should have apologized for it, he didn't. "I said I'll be there soon, okay?"

"Yeah." Thatcher was quiet for a moment and then spoke again, softer, as though trying to appease the beast that had been born inside Wally. "We can't wait to see you again." The sentence was a nice sentiment, and Wally should have been pleased to see his friend again, but something about it rang false and Wally didn't want to hear anymore.

"Yeah." Without waiting for anything else, Wally snapped his phone shut and let his head fall back onto his knees. The sound of cars driving above the bridge were loud and obnoxious, and all he wanted to do was to fall into a void of complete silence. With a loud sigh, he resigned himself to a long period of loneliness, where he would be alone with nothing and no thoughts and just a shell of a man.

Only one idea was allowed to pass through the crevices of his mind. _At least I have the I.U. fooled._

_--_

"I knew it!"

Nikki's fury was impressive, and Thatcher knew enough to stay on the other side of the room, where he would be out of range of thrown objects and flying fists and verbal assaults. He had seen Nikki do this before and was well-aware that the fire would eventually fade, but for now, it was blazing fully and consuming anything that it could touch.

Her agitated voice cut into his thoughts, harder than before. "I can't believe he would do this to us! You said you trusted him, Thatch, and look at this! It's only a matter of time before that annoying little girl comes _skipping_ into our headquarters and then shouts our location for all of the world to hear! Or at the very least, Wally will leave us to go be with _her_!"

Her finger pointed at the screen, at the girl that had shown up on the hidden camera that Thatcher had rigged to follow Wally around. It was the sort of thing that Thatcher disliked, for he had some affection for the blonde boy, but the boy had proven of late that he couldn't quite be trusted.

Nikki was practically spitting her words out as she continued in her rant, and Thatcher was very glad that he wasn't the girl right now, because Nikki's venom was all too scary. He tried to stick to the side of patience, and when her tirade began to wane, he attempted to inject reason into the conversation.

"Nikki. It's simple from here." She glared daggers at him, and he rushed to explain. "Look, it's not going to be hard. We just bring Wally back to our side, and I think you know how we're going to do that."

A grim smile shot across her mouth, but it was gone an instant later. Her slit-like eyes flashed like lightening and Thatcher was grateful that it wasn't directed at him. "If this doesn't work, he is _done_."


	9. Betrayed

**This chapter is for the lovely Kati, because angst is delicious, and for tater06, because she is incredibly sweet! Actually, they both are, **_**and**_** talented. If you're not reading their works, then you should repent immediately and go do so. You are seriously missing out.**

**Is it bad that I had fun writing this chapter? Wait, don't answer that. Not until you read it.**

**For now, all we will say is that I did have fun. Yes.**

**Still insanely busy. I have an essay due tomorrow for a book that I've barely even started. Guess that I'm going to spend tonight doing! :D At least I have a while tonight and tomorrow morning, though. Or something. Blech, I barely have time for fun anymore. Just writing for this and my novel, schoolwork, and the occasional game of ultimate Frisbee.**

**Right. Gotta go get ready for Writing now. Peace out, and I hope that the rest of your week is the best ever!**

**Disclaimer: Don't own, except Thatcher and Nikki.**

**Love, Sadie**

--

The glass door slid open soundlessly and allowed the body to step through. Slumped. Disfigured. The shoulders were hung low and the head dipped toward the floor. The feet slid against the floor in a worthless scuffle. The lips were white and bloodless, pressed together in a taut line that had anger teeming around the edges.

Anger. Defeat.

The other figure moved forward. Confident. Surreal. "Welcome back."

The emerald eyes slid upward and glinted with a hard light. A smirk. Weary acceptance. "It's good to _be_ back."

--

Underneath the cotton covers, a muffled sigh sounded. With hands that were numb from the chill in the room, Kuki pushed back her covers and shook her head, letting strands of hair tickle her nose without any movement to brush them away. She could only bring herself to a slumping shuffle as she moved from her bed into the bathroom, with heavy-lidded eyes that gazed emotionlessly back at her in the mirror.

After a few minutes, she began to ready herself for her day. A puppet on strings, each movement was listless and somewhat awkward, as though she couldn't bring herself to put any enthusiasm into her motions. It was only when the hot water from the shower began to race down her skin that she was able to relax.

Each attempt to make it a normal day was simply a mask over what she really felt, and a sad endeavor to forget what had happened the previous day. Anything she could do to keep the memory from rising to the surface of her brain was worth completing, and she kept about her meaningless tasks to retain concentration on things that didn't really matter anyway.

Only when she was seated on the plush of a chair beside her kitchen table did it hit her full-force, like a punch in the gut that left her breathless and reeling. Everything pouring back, invading her mind and pushing and swarming and conquering until it had taken over every part of her senses. Warm lips on hers, angry and demanding, and then gone just as fast, leaving her with only a breath of the feeling left.

With the wind swirling around her, she had stood there, looking after his escaping figure with nothing but confusion. Her lips, throbbing slightly, had parted to call his name, but had received no response, and with a sense of defeat, she had started the long walk home, trying in vain to both capture the memory and to forget it and pretend that it had never occurred.

_Just like him, to play with my mind like that._

With a disgusted sigh, she pushed her bowl away and stood, slinging her purse over her shoulder and starting for the door. She really didn't want to work today, not with her mind buzzing about annoyingly, but it wasn't worth it to skip a day, so she wrenched the door open and stepped out into the frosty neighborhood. It would be a long walk to work; plenty of time to clear her mind before she had to deal with the bustle of a regular day.

--

The leaves crackled nearby and Wally jumped to his feet, looking around wildly and relaxing when his eyes caught sight of honey-blonde hair that danced in the wind. Relaxed, but not ecstatic. As if he wanted to talk to the girl right now, who was smirking at him as though trying to say _I told you so_ with her lips. Cruddy sneak.

"What do you want, Nikki?" he snapped, leaning back against the tree and shoving his hands into his pockets. He had considered ignoring her completely, but he didn't want her running to Thatcher while oozing out poisonous, sugar-coated words that would end up being used against him.

She came to stand beside him, and he didn't trust her innocent smile. Not at all. "What are you doing out here, Wally?" If he stopped to think about it, she really was attractive. The problem was in the fact that she knew it. Each curve of her lips, tilt of her head, swing of her hips, all of it calculated and unnatural. Appealing, but forced.

Two can play at that game, he figured. Answering a question with a question was her specialty, but perhaps he could twist her own game and use it against her. "Why do you care?" With a hard smile at her, it was amusing to see the way she faltered slightly, although she was able to cover it up smoothly as though it hadn't tripped her up at all.

"Because," she purred, tilting her head so that her hair spilled over her shoulder. Her voice became a whisper that was both alluring and accusing. "I don't believe you." Each word was a dagger, and she spat them out in order to drive them into him.

Immediately, Wally's face smoothed over into a mask of cold stone, emotionless and chilling as he appraised her. There was no way that she could know why he was here, no way that she could tell what he was trying to do out here. She was bluffing. She had to be. "You should."

"You may have fooled Thatcher. . ." Within seconds, she was inches from his face, glaring and dangerous behind a façade of sweet innocence. "I see right through you, Wally. Even if Thatcher trusts you again, I don't. And you have a long time to go before you can prove to me that you're even remotely worthy of being a member of the team, best friends with Thatcher or not."

Wally glared at her before his eyes picked up some movement on the street nearby. Although he was partially concealed behind the bush, he could see _her_, walking to work as she did every morning about this time. Her hair, whipping in the wind, covered his view of her violet eyes, the part of her that he wanted to see the most.

If Nikki noticed his distraction, she made no mention of it. Instead, her voice became sly. "But. . . I'm willing to overlook it. . . I know she was just one of your assignments, Wally. I loved the report you gave us on her." Something in her tone caught Wally's attention, and when he glanced back down at her with a look of confusion, she caught his head and pulled it against hers until her lips were molded against his.

Wally let out a muffled grunt of surprised and tried to pull back, but she held him fast against her, using her other hand to wrap around his waist like a snake and secure him there. It was nothing like it had been with Kuki – no fire that threatened to engulf them, no connection that bound them inexplicably together. Just jumbled thoughts and a flurry of confusion that left him wondering what the heck was going on.

He was so caught up in trying to escape her grasp that he couldn't determine the source of the thud behind them. But he did recognize the voice behind the gasp that sounded, and with horror, he finally shoved Nikki away, just in time to catch a pair of violet eyes that had seen _everything_.

"Wait!" The word barked out of his mouth before he could think, and in response, the girl's face hardened and she took off at a run down the street toward the large office building where she worked. Wally scrambled to run after her, but Nikki was there, in his way and in his face and not allowing him to go after Kuki and explain everything. "Nikki, _move_!"

"No."

His glare was furious as his eyes met hers. If she wasn't a female, he would have socked her in the face, then and there. "What are you talking about? Get out of the way!"

"I said no." Her eyes glinted hard at him and her mouth was a thin line of disgust. "You're not betraying the I.U. for some stupid girl, Wally." The look on her face, the venom in her voice, all of it created a rebellious feeling inside of Wally that bubbled up through his veins and threatened to explode.

"You can't tell me what to do."

And Wally took off at a run around her, slipping out of her grasp easily when she tried to catch his wrist. He knew from his early attempts to spy on her that Kuki worked nearby, and his eyes scanned the street frantically for a glimpse of that billowing green jacket. When he finally found her, on the stairs that led up to her building, he screeched to a halt in front of her and tried to speak, breathing heavily. "K-Kuki, I-"

"Save it!" Her snap stopped him short, and he only then realized the levels of hurt that reflected in her eyes. The very edges of them brimmed with hints of tears, and Wally winced away from her. Again, he tried to explain, fumbling around for words that would make her listen.

"You don't understand-"

"Oh, I think I understand!" There was a fury in her voice that he hadn't even heard there before. It stabbed at him like a long rapier. "You _played_ me, Wally! It was all a _lie_. You got to know me, spent time with me, and. . ." She hesitated on that thought, not even willing to say it out loud. The guilt pressed on Wally even heavier. "And, it was all just a lie so that you could _stalk_ me like some kind of _freak_!"

He shook his head rapidly, letting his hair flop around his face like a blonde curtain. "Not all-"

"I _heard_ her, Wally! I was never anything but a stupid assignment! I don't know what you reported on, but I bet you got an eyeful by pretending to be close to me. The dance, the conversations, they were all fake! You're _sick_!" She spat out the last word with a fiery rage that made him flinch. Finally, with a growing irritation at the situation, he cut her off and began to speak.

"That's not true! You're blowing it way out of propor-"

"Was I _assigned_ to you?" Her quiet demand stopped him short. She would looking at him in earnest now, and the whispered question was the one that made him want to throw it all away and forget that it ever happened. It would only take one word and he could convince her that it was all false, and that it had only been fate that had brought them together. Just one word.

But he couldn't give her that word. Not truthfully. ". . . Yes."

Her lips pressed together and the pain inside of her eyes only deepened. Without another word, she whirled around and stormed into the building, slamming the glass door behind her. Down the street, Nikki was watching him with a triumphant smirk, and the sight sickened him.

Turning his back on her, he began to walk. He didn't know where he was going, or how far he would go. All he knew was that he needed to leave her behind, standing there, thinking that she had won.

Which, in reality, she had.

Because Wally had lost.

--

**p.s. Freaked you out a bit with that first section, did I? Oh Wally, you and your acting skills.**

**Bad Nikki, bad Nikki! Go to your room!**


	10. Blood Covered Knuckles

**Whew, finally. This took so long to write, and I kept changing the descriptions somewhat. I'm not entirely pleased with the result, but I don't want to mess with it anymore. It will just get worse.**

**BY THE WAY, guys. I won't be updating much in November. Why, might you ask? Because it's NANOWRIMOOOOOOOOOOOO! National Novel Writing Month! If you don't know what that is, LOOK IT UP NOW. I will be participating, and thus, very busy. But if anyone wants to read the fiction I'll be writing at that point, hey, drop me a quick note, because I can hook you up with that. I already think I know my plot and so I'm really excited!**

**I'm also sketching a lot more now. Expect sketches of Thatcher and Nikki, soon, just because I can.**

**ANYWAY, TO THIS CHAPTER.  
Fun to write, definitely. And full of juicy action and vented emotions. Mmmm, yum, angst.**

**I hope you enjoy it as much as I did while writing it! Have a WONDERFUL week!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own KND or Kuki and Wally. Just Thatcher and Nikki, those devious kids.**

**Love, Sadie**

--

_THUDTHUDTHUDTHUDTHUDTHUDTHUD._

The furious pounding of Wally's boots on the thick pavement kept pushing him through the streets, under the cover of the trees and through the shadows that they created. Sweat was flying off of him like liquid bullets, leaving trails down his face that were similar to tears. His expression, however, was twisted, contorted into a furious rage that kept his jaw locked tightly together.

He didn't know where he was running, or when he would stop. He just wanted to go. Leave this place and forget everything that had happened and never return. It would be so easy to start a new life as something simple, something that would never require him to live a lie again.

There was a rustling noise behind him and it only pushed him to go faster, until he could no longer hear it. He didn't want to see the candy-sweet smile of his teammate, who had pushed him in the way of a train and only laughed when he had crashed. He didn't want to see the mocking eyes of his best friend, the ones that flickered like they were holding the darkest of secrets.

A branch snapped, and Wally knew that he was in trouble.

The blow came swiftly, at his lower body. Before he could fully register it, he had hit the ground hard and rolled forward a few times and come to a stop with his face against the ground. Grunting, he pushed himself upward and turned around to face the cold eyes that were still poking fun at him behind their veiled lenses.

"Where do you think you're going?" Thatcher stood with a feigned innocence, but it was Thatcher himself who had trained Wally to pay attention to the tension in the muscles, not the pose. Even he could see that Thatcher had prepared himself for a fight. He responded by standing simply, defensively. Challengingly.

"Why do you care?" The question hinted of insolence and Wally felt smug when he saw Thatcher's mouth twitch downward. He knew that he was baiting the man, but he couldn't help it. He had no kind words for the lad who had been with him since his earlier years.

Thatcher made a good show of open friendliness, taking a step forward with his arms extended outward in a gesture of goodwill. All a freaking _lie_. "Wally, you're one of us. We just want you back with us, that's all." When Wally didn't respond, he tried again, with a voice that was almost biting in its kindness. "Come on, mate, so you let one girl trip you up a little. You're one of our best operatives, and you know that you belong with us."

"Nikki did it on purpose." Wally's spitting voice did nothing to face Thatcher, who looked as though he was well-aware of the entire situation. He pulled off a smooth shrug that infuriated Wally to no end – as if he had a right to be calm, as _if_ he wasn't playing with Wally's life like a puppet on a string!

"She's like me." His eyes were open and baiting Wally, trying to get him to understand. "She just wants you back with us." A hand, extended in the offer of friendship. Unwanted. Scorned.

Wally turned slightly, at an angle to Thatcher. A sign. A dismissal. "Maybe I don't want to come back."

At once, Thatcher lost the smile on his face.

The mere presence of a smile transformed his features. When Thatcher smiled, it was easy to believe that the whole world was made of wonderful things, and that somehow, in some way, everything would be okay. That goodness prevailed over everything else, always.

When the smile was gone, his features became dark, a flash of the darker piece of him that lurked beneath the surface. His eyes glinted and he seemed to carry a storm inside of him, clashing and churning and creating an intensity that threatened to consume all that stood in his path. This was the glimpse of Thatcher that Wally feared, and at the same time the glimpse that made him scoff.

"You know what happens when you leave the I.U." His voice was cold, stiff. As though he was already aware of the inevitable. As though he was already preparing himself for what was going to have to happen for Wally to cut the links they had created. "Why would you leave just for some random girl? She's not even attractive."

Wally bristled and slid his foot away, until he was lowered into the proper stance. His fists were balled tightly, harshly, daring Thatcher to come near him. "I'm leaving!" His gunshot of a statement pierced right through Thatcher, and at once, Thatcher had launched toward him, eyes blazing with vengeance.

Wally was prepared for it, but not for the force that Thatcher had piled behind it. His foot slammed into Wally's gut, sending him reeling backwards and sliding across the ground. At once, Thatcher was on him again, leaning over him with a fist pulled back and ready to slam into Wally's face. In fear, Wally thrust a leg into him, shoving him backward and giving Wally enough time to get to his feet once more.

"You can't win!" Thatcher came at him in a flurry of movement, with fists that Wally had to continually dodge to avoid. He hated being defensive, hated having to run. He much preferred offensive tactics. He just needed an opening. "I taught you everything you know, Wally! You can't beat me!"

It was true. Thatcher had been the one to teach him how to throw a punch, take a blow, move around, and use his entire body. It was Thatcher who had spent hours with him in an empty room, shouting at him – _hit the bag again, hit it again, hit it _again – and pushing him harder, faster, stronger, _better_. It was Thatcher who had shown him that strength was power, strength was triumph, strength was life.

But it was Wally who had taken his training farther.

Grasping his fist, Wally hurled the body over his shoulder, slamming Thatcher into the ground with a sickening thud. A jolt seemed to race through his body, and when Thatcher returned to his feet, he was shaking slightly, as though the blow had shocked his entire system. Unfortunately, he was well-trained. Used to such incidents. Able to brush it off with ease.

He forced Wally to the ground and sent a foot flying into his side, knocking the wind out of Wally's lungs. It was a desperate attempt of Wally's, but he gripped Thatcher's ankle and yanked him to the ground while scrambling to his own feet.

It was a dangerous dance, one that kept them circling each other and watching for any signs of movement. It was a waltz, with them darting back and forth in an attempt to avoid the flying attacks. It was a tango, keeping them close to each other while trying to gain the advantage. It was a sweeping ballroom sequence, while they swept each other off the firm foundation of their feet and sent the other tumbling to the ground. Again and again. Unforgiving, unrelenting.

Finally, Wally felt himself tiring, and yet Thatcher looked untouchable. Summoning what was left of his strength, Wally pulled back his fist and hurled it into Thatcher's face, feeling the sharp crack of the blow beneath his skin and watching Thatcher stagger back, coughing blood out of his mouth and spitting scarlet liquid from his lips. His knuckles were streaked with the blood, and Wally felt himself sicken at what he had done.

Thatcher touched his face and stared at the red substance, sliding down his fingers and staining his palm. His eyes met Wally's and his gaze hardened, until it was nothing but a burning fire that was both chilling and enflaming. His mouth moved, ignoring the blood that had touched his lips. "We're not done, here, Wally. Not by far." And then he was gone, disappearing behind the cover of the nearby trees.

A dagger of cold fear stabbed itself into Wally's stomach. No. No, oh no, no.

The rules for the I.U. were that if anyone tried to leave, they were to be beaten. They were to be silenced by iron fist, to be left in a pile of bloody helplessness. To have their lips pressed together and keeping their words back because of nothing but fear. Wally had thought that by defeating Thatcher, he had escaped this rule.

So naïve.

No, Thatcher would be back. He would be back with reinforcements, with weapons, with all manner of tools to make sure that Wally was put in his place, that he would regret his decision to leave the I.U., that his vocal cords would be ripped apart in order to keep him silent and suffering every day of his life. He would be merciless and cold, and the friendship that they had shared, the friendship that was so _easily_ severed, would be nothing but a memory, one that Thatcher would easily defile.

Run. He had to run.

Wheeling around on his heels, Wally took off running in a different direction, with gasps that were both from fear and from a lack of breath. He was too _alone_ to fight, he would never survive by himself. He had to hide, to escape, to leave this place and stay out of their way until they considered him dead and forgotten.

Along with the fear, there was a smoldering anger inside of him, one that was churning and beginning to enflame inside of him. He wanted to fight Thatcher again, to push his face into the ground, to feel the satisfying impact when his foot connected with Thatcher's jaw. He wanted to hurt Nikki, to insult her, to tear her down until she was nothing left, simply a ripped soul that didn't deserve to have feelings anymore. He wanted to ruin their lives like they had obliterated his. He wanted to make them pay.

He hated them for what they had done to him.

But there was no place that he could possibly go. Where would he find a place that could shelter his quivering fear that he had buried deep inside of him? Who would hold a door open for the rage that blazed inside of his lenses? Where could he possibly find love, who could pity him?

No one. No place left. Nowhere to go.

_Where is my place now?_

--

"I hate him!"

The refrigerator door was slammed with such force that the contents inside rattled. A few of the more unstable bottles probably toppled over, but at the moment, Kuki didn't care. Her declaration was loud, forceful and meant for her ears alone. So she was vaguely surprised when a voice sounded from the next room, amused and concerned all at the same time.

"Who?" Her dark-skinned roommate came in to lean against the doorway, flashing a grin at her that was meant to calm her down. When that did not succeed, she approached the green-clad girl, slipping an arm around her shoulders and touching their forehead together. "You ain't got enough hate inside of ya, girl. Maybe dislike, but not hate."

It was a weak attempt to make Kuki laugh, and it barely worked; a breathy chuckle passed through her lips. But her violet eyes were hard, a type of rock-solid ferocity that was only occasionally present inside of her lenses. "No one. Just. . . a boy."

"Oh really?" When Kuki shrugged nonchalantly, Abby began to stroke a hand across her upper-back, a technique that often soothed the overemotional girl in times of dire stress. All at once, Kuki seemed to relax slightly, a soft sigh escaping her as her brow furrowed in concentration. "Look, girl, all that Abby knows is this: If a guy's gonna break your big, soft heart, then he ain't good enough for ya."

"I guess." Once again, it was not a committed response, and Abby frowned even ask Kuki added, "Thanks." But it was clear from her overcast expression that she needed something more, something to take her mind off of her current troubles. Finally, Abby simply grabbed her wrist and began to tow her toward the door.

"Wh-"

"Don'tcha worry, girl, Abby's gonna fix it. We're going to spend tonight celebrating. After all, the point of life is to live, ain't it?"

--

"You were right." Thatcher's voice was cold as he snapped his words angrily into the phone. Two of his fingers were skimming the skin of his nose, shying away from the most sensitive spots, trying to ascertain as to whether the obstinate Australian had broken it. Stupid kid. "He's deserted."

On the other side of the phone, the feminine voice was a feline purr. "I told you that he would, didn't I?" At once, it was amused, even behind the obvious frustration at the situation. "You sound like you're in pain. Did he _beat_ you?"

"Shut _up_, Nikki." Thatcher felt like throttling her, except that she wasn't even present. Some other time, then. "Just get ready to attack, okay? You know the rules."

She laughed, and the sound was chilling. "We'll get rid of the kid quick, Thatch. Don't even worry."


	11. The Patter of Rain

**This took foreeeeeverrrrr because I couldn't decide how I wanted to write this chapter. But I finally decided, and here it is! HUZZAH!**

**So much angst, hee hee.**

**ANYWAY, I'm going to be super busy with papers, but don't worry. I'm trying hard to finish this story before November hits, so that you're not waiting for the end. And it's going to get intense from here. :D**

**Dedicated to the lovely PWs, each and every one of them! **

**And now, I need to go home. I'm hungry. X3**

**Hope you have a FANTASTIC rest of the week.**

**Disclaimer: Do not owwnnn, do not own. I just own the storylineee. Even the song isn't mine, it's David Archuleta's. XD**

**Love, Sadie**

--

The rain made a continuous pattering noise against the window, leaving streaks like tears to trail down the flawless glass. The liquid warped any attempt at vision through the window, twisting the world into water drop images that put the ground where the sky should be. Slight steam from the heat of the car had left foggy traces on the edges of the window, which where only enhanced by the kiss of Kuki's breath on the surface.

She refused to even look at Abby, simply over the fact that Abby would not tell her where they were going. It was the lowest form of friendship and vaguely close to kidnap, and Kuki had already informed her of this, but it had not had any effect on the smug teen sitting beside her, who only grinned wider and continued to sing along her the music that was blasting through her speakers.

As hard as it was for Kuki to block the sound out of the inner caverns of her eardrums, it was even harder with a crooning male voice poured out of the speakers.

_I just can't figure it out._

_Tell me why you're so hard to forget,  
don't remind me: I'm not over it.  
Tell me why I can't seem to face the truth  
I'm just a little too not over you._

The words drove themselves through the pores of her skin, sinking into the layers and embedding themselves there, until she was filled with them and could contain them no longer. Reaching out, her fingers flipped the knob until the radio was off. Abby glanced at her out of the corners of her eyes and lifted one eyebrow expertly, silently objecting to the silencing of her music.

"I don't like that song." The words were a lie; on previous occasions, she had rather enjoyed singing along to the heart-wrenching melody that described the pain of losing someone. But when forced to realize the reality of the pain, she would rather just listen to the beating of the rain on the window.

Knowingly, Abby let her eyes roll to the side, and then shrugged and began to talk as though it made no difference to her, anyway. "We're almost there." Her eyes were squinted slightly to attempt to see through the rain, and Kuki couldn't tell how she was able to see the road in the grey scene around them.

"Almost where?" she asked again, feigning innocence in her inquiry, but Abby only smirked and shook her head, letting her hair swing around her face. With a sigh, Kuki went back to staring out the window, trying to see shapes in the trails of the raindrops and wondering if the sky was crying.

After a few more minutes of silence, Abby pulled into a parking lot and slid out of the car, still without another word. Following suit, Kuki lifted a hand to shield her eyes from the raindrops and recognized the vague outline of a building on the other end of the parking lot. With another sigh, for Abby's benefit alone, she trudged through the puddles after her and listened to the splashing sound that her shoes made in the water.

_Lighten up, Kuki_, a voice inside of her chided. _It's not the end of the world. Look how hard Abby's trying to make sure that you have fun._

It was true. The girl was bound and determined to make sure that she had wiped the bitter look off of Kuki's face by taking her out to have fun. It was a nice gesture, and Kuki immediately felt ashamed that she had spent the car ride scorning her friend for thinking of it.

So she pulled her lips into the most convincing smile that she could muster and hurried to walk beside the swaggering girl, who walked into places as if she owned them. With a voice that seemed a shade happier than it had been before, she asked the girl, "So come on, tell me where we are."

The look that she received as a suspicious one, obviously doubting her sudden return to joy. With a shrug, Abby gave her a smirk and pushed her forward, toward the large doors that seemed to encase an explosion of sound. "Go on, girl, see for yourself."

The second that the door had opened enough to let through any air, a blast of music met Kuki's ears, music that was toned low and matched the warm surroundings and dim lights. It was a small place, and Kuki recognized it from an outing that she had gone on once, with a group of friends. Despite her mood, she found herself laughing. "You brought me to a karaoke place?"

"It has food, too," Abby grinned, pushing her toward a booth and sitting her down immediately. There were menus placed on the table, which Abby began to flip through nonchalantly, as though it was a perfectly average thing to kidnap a friend and take her to a karaoke restaurant.

In spite of herself, Kuki began to relax, and found that it was easy to chatter with her friend about pretty much anything. Work, weird neighbors, all of it flowing smoothly and almost naturally with each other. Kuki began to feel at home with Abby, and even began to feel grateful to the girl for dragging her there.

"What's cookin', good lookin'?"

Both girls looked up and caught the eyes of a smirking teenager, one who immediately plopped into the booth seat next to Kuki and focused across the table at Abby. He was lanky, with a staggering height, and the crop of his copper hair was graced with a pair of goggles. The point of his chin was resting smugly on the palm of his hand as he continued to grin, and Kuki couldn't help but smile at the teenager.

Abby wasn't so easily impressed. "Do you try that line on all the girls you meet?" She had perfected the art of lifting her eyebrow in a mocking manner, and it was a miracle that the look she gave the boy didn't scare him off. Instead, it only seemed to encourage him.

"Only the prettiest, and you two take the cake." His grin flashed white in the lighting and he sat up, reclining against the seat beneath him. "Hoagie Gilligan, if you were wondering."

"We weren't," Abby said drily at the same time that Kuki chirped out, "Kuki Sanban." Hoagie nodded and picked up Kuki's discarded menu himself, letting his gaze roll over the contents before he flicked it aside, letting it slide across the smooth tabletop and collide with Abby's menu.

"The fries here are excellent," he commented blandly, before looking back up at Abby once more with a pair of scrutinizing eyes. "Do I get to know your name, or are you just going to keep acting coy while secretly enjoying the attention?" He had a boyish attitude about him, Kuki decided to herself, one that was hidden behind his maturing body but that showed through in his gleeful grin and his teasing manner.

"Abby Lincoln." The girl looked as though she might sniff pompously, and the mask amused Kuki to no end. Apparently Hoagie agreed, for his smile threatened to consume his entire visage.

"It's nice to meet both of you." His eyes roamed from Abby over to Kuki, whom he extended a hand to in an act of good fellowship. But when his eyes met her face fully-on for the first time, he hesitated, and then gasped comically. "Hey! I know you!"

"Uhhh. . ." Kuki frowned slightly and leaned back, startled by his exuberance in his declaration. "I don't know you, I'm sorry." But how many distinctly oriental girls with violet eyes could he possibly know?

"But I know you!" He leaned forward as she tried to escape, excited by his discovery and thoroughly intending to make sure that she agreed with him. "Wait, where do I know you from?" He was like a cartoon, scratching his head definitively while he tried to match her face to a memory from the past. With a snap of his fingers, he lit up. "Oh! You know my roommate! Wally Beetles!"

Kuki flinched. How could such a jovial character be roommates with the mysterious boy that she had encountered? "Uhhh. . . yes, I do."

Across the table, Abby let out a growl at the name of the boy that had shattered her roommate's heart, but Hoagie was too intrigued to care. His face dropped into a worried expression, one that seemed to take away from his boyishness and make him seem like the man that he was growing into. "Have you seen him? He didn't come home last night, and he never does that without calling."

_What?_ Kuki instinctively leaned forward, biting her lower lip slightly before speaking. "Didn't he say anything to you?"

Hoagie shook his head, brown locks flopping. "He left really early, and he seemed really pissed off, so I didn't ask him where he was going. Usually, when he's going to be out all night, he calls me so that I don't worry about him, but he hasn't called and I haven't seen him at all."

"Sucks," Abby muttered, tapping her fingers on the table. "Was he pissed off at _you_?"

At this, Hoagie appeared almost affronted, as though even suggesting such a thing was a personal offense. "Of course not, or I would know why he wasn't home. He's almost never mad at me. We've been best friends for years." His glum face was enough to make Kuki's heart break. But then he startled her by brightening slightly. "Say, maybe you two could help me look for him?"

Kuki's first reaction was to reject him, and tell him to find his backstabbing friend by himself. And she could tell from Abby's expression that the girl was thinking the same thing. "I don't think that's the best idea," she said, but her efforts to sound firm were severely weak.

"Please?" Hoagie looked severely dejected, and worried over the absence of his roommate. Kuki felt like hitting him – he must have know that she couldn't resist such a face. With a huff, she finally nodded and gave his shoulder a gentle push toward the edge of the booth.

"Alright, let's go."

--

These were the reaches of the city that Wally didn't know, and he was unsure of how to get home from here. But then, he really didn't want to go home.

He was in a neighborhood, walking beneath the streetlights and kicking at loose pebbles, watching them get lost in the strands of grass. In the distance, he could see a large, looming tree, and felt that it was an appropriate destination for him, since he had no idea where he was going, anyway. So with a singular mind, he turned on his trek and began to head toward the tree.

In his mind, he was mulling over his options. Move away, maybe. Or just go into hiding. Or, he had always wondered what it would be like to be a wandering soul. Either way, going back didn't feel like an option at all.

It was a long time before he reached the foot of the tree, and he found himself looking up into the branches and the thicket of leaves, trying to spot the sleeping sky beneath them. The bark was old and easy to scrape off, and Wally let himself fall to the ground, sitting against the tree and staring out into the slumbering city with a mind that felt almost fogged.

His foot rested on a pile of loose dirt, and he glanced at it curiously, seeing as how it didn't fit with the rest of the grass. It came up easily, so he began to push it away, until he had shifted and was settled on his knees, digging through the dirt with a curiosity that he did not quite understand. When his fingers hit cold metal, he immediately let out a yelp and began to yank it up, trying to pull it out.

Inside his hands was a metal container, one that was beginning to rust with age. His fingers tried to rub some of the filth off, before they finally settled on the clasp. Without bothering to think about what he could be intruding on, he pulled the lid open and peered inside of the dark corners.

It was filled with little objects, and many papers of various sizes. First he pulled out a plastic toy plane, one with chipped paint that had been crudely administered to it. Next came a few pieces of various candy, and pair of sunglasses. The objects meant nothing to him, so he put them aside and began to shuffle through the papers instead, which consisted of mostly photographs.

What he found made him gasp aloud.

The photos consisted of children, but that wasn't what struck him. It was the fact that _he_ was in them – his small-statured, grimacing self, the child that he had seen in scrapbooks but could barely remember. Almost all of them consisted of him – pictures of eating ice cream, playing games, climbing trees, playing video games. There was no doubt inside of him that the blonde kid with the bowl-cut was him.

And then his eyes roamed to the other kids in the picture, and he felt another jolt of shock run through him.

It was Hoagie. Chubby, round, loveable, beaming Hoagie. With his aviator cap fit snugly on his head and his goggle hiding his eyes from the world. He and Wally were often beside each other, grinning together like they had been the best of friends. It explained so much.

And then he saw _her_.

Smiling, waving, _dancing_ Kuki, in an oversized green sweater that covered her entire upper body. He knew it was her, from the occasional shot of her violet eyes to the pure happiness that radiated from the still picture of her body. There she was, eating a cookie, and then holding some sort of stuffed animal and squeezing it tightly, and then hugging Wally's blushing childhood self. And then a snapshot of them together on a Ferris Wheel, smiling together and talking comfortably with the sun-lit sky behind them.

"She was right," Wally breathed, clutching the pictures tightly. He did not recognize the bald boy with the sunglasses, but the dark-skinned girl had to be the girl that he had met at the club. Hands shaking, he shoved the pictures into his pocket and leaped to his feet, determined to run back to her house and show her the pictures.

He had only gone a few hundred feet when he heard his name being called. His first response was to stiffen and think of a way to bolt, but then he recognized the voice. Hoagie. Without questioning it, he ran toward the voice, determined to inform Hoagie of his revelation.

The minute that his roommate came into view, Wally ran harder, only to screech to a stop in front of him. Both boys began talking at once, struggling to be heard over the other.

"Where have you _been_, you _always_ call and I was so worried-"

"Look, I'm in serious trouble, but I just found something-"

"and I'm sitting here thinking you're _dead_ or something-"

"and you won't believe it, I can't even believe it myself-"

"because you always call, but you just don't even care that I was worried-"

"but the proof is here, it's amazing and you need to look at this-"

"and you- stop _talking_, Wally, I'm trying to tell you that you're a git!"

At once, Wally pulled him into a hug, one that he felt could have betrayed his essence of manhood. But at the moment, he didn't mind. "I'm sorry. I really am."

Hoagie huffed and cuffed his head slightly, before pulling back. "At least you're okay." And then he smiled, the smile that held the same dimples that it had for so many years. His eyes fell on the photos. "What are those?"

"Look, Hoagie, it's incredible, you-"

Wally stopped when he saw the two figures standing behind Hoagie. The girl – he couldn't remember her name. Abby, maybe? – and Kuki, both of them looking at him calmly, with hooded eyes. He couldn't seem to remember how to form words.

"Hey." The greeting was simple, and yet it seemed to hit Wally with the force of an oncoming train. Vainly, he tried to remember how to work his tongue.

"Hey." He watched her eyebrows wrinkle at his weak response, but couldn't think of anything else to say. Was there an easy way to apologize for being a lying, backstabbing, sneaking idiot?

Kuki's frown deepened, and she turned to Abby and shrugged. "He's okay. So let's go home now." The girls turned and Wally watched their retreating figures for a second before scrambling forward, unsure of what to say but knowing that he had to say something.

"You felt it, too!"

Kuki stopped. She didn't turn around, nor did she glance over her shoulder. After a long moment of deliberation, her voice came out quietly. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Valiant in his conviction, Wally surged forward, clutching the photos tightly. "You felt it, didn't you? I know you did! That sneaking suspicion that maybe we connected in a way that you can't with strangers. That weird feeling that there was _something_ more, and neither of us knew what it was, we just knew it was there!"

Now she turned, eyes blazing, and Wally reeled back, away from her fury. "Obviously, you didn't feel anything, seeing as how you're going around kissing other girls when you're not _stalking_ me like some kind of _psycho_!"

"_She_ kissed _me_!" They were inches apart now, almost spitting into each other's faces while a furious fire raged between them. "Yes, I was assigned to you, okay?! Yes, that's why I spoke to you at first! But you _felt_ it, and so did I, and you _can't_ deny it!"

"I'm not denying anything!" Her arms were folded, and she looked like the very picture of frustration. "You just don't know what you want! You just wander around and do whatever you want because, heck, I'm just a girl, anyway, I'm just an assignment, and it doesn't matter if I get hurt in the process, right?"

"I want _this_!" He shoved the photographs in her face, with a group picture resting on top. Her confused face cleared when she saw the figures in the picture, and she snatched the photos away to get a closer look, her face taking on a look of fascination. "I want whatever I had back then. Whatever I had that made me smile like that, I want it."

"You. . ." Her eyes met his, and they were wide with wonder. "I was right? I mean, I guessed, I thought I knew, but. . ."

"Yeah." Nodding slowly, Wally dug his hands into his pockets and let his gaze fall to the floor. "You were right. And I didn't believe you."

At once, the memory seemed to go rushing back to her, and her expression hardened slightly. "No, you didn't. And you went running back to that . . . those people." Inside the depths of her eyes, there was still a layer of hurt, and Wally flinched.

"I'm sorry, okay?" His head snapped up so that he could look at Hoagie again. "Speaking of which, I have a problem."

"We'll talk about it later," Hoagie said firmly. "Right now, you just need to come home, okay?"

Wally would have argued, except for the steel-firm look in his eyes. He nodded, and then glanced back at Kuki, who was staring at the ground with a mixed expression. Grimacing, he had to keep himself from sticking his tongue out at her, as though childish intentions had taken over whenever he was around her youthful gaze. "I said I'm sorry, alright?"

"Fine," she replied curtly, before turning to walk toward home.

"Fine!"

"Alright, then!"

"Alright!"

"Good!"

"Great!"

As the two stormed off down the sidewalk, side-by-side, the two figures that they left behind stared at them in what could only be described as astonishment.

"Do you have any idea what just happened?" Hoagie asked quietly, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Abby has _no_ clue."


	12. Where Do You Stand?

**There's something off about this chapter. I'm not sure what it is, but I'm not sure if I like it or not. I mean, some parts of it I **_**really**_** like. But other parts, I feel more like "meh."**

**I was mad, too, because I had to quit in the middle of writing it to write an essay. So when I came back, my writing wasn't quite flowing as well as it had been. I'm hoping the shift isn't completely noticeable.**

**Aaah, so much tension between Kuki and Wally. It's amazing.**

**Well, I'm determined to go to bed at a decent hour today, so I'll see you guys later. I'm trying to get as much out as I can before November hits, but my teachers are now assigning essays and crap and it's ridiculoussss. But on the plus side, I'm totally pumped for NaNoWriMo!**

**Okay, right. Bed time. I hope the rest of your week is wonderfullll!**

**Disclaimer: I just own Thatcher and Nikki and the I.U. Everything else is Mr. Waburton's.**

**Love, Sadie**

--

Tearing, exploding, ripping. Like someone was taking a knife and scraping the blade right over the edge of his brain, pricking. Like the iron-thick hooves of a stallion pounding against his cerebral lobe, stamping, raging. Like an atom bomb was going off in the inner caverns where his most important thoughts were kept, imploding, searing, engulfing. If he didn't find relief, his mind would collapse on itself.

But the sun was blazing in his eyes, and it was disrupting his intentions of having a focused mind. He considered throwing a pillow at the window, but the sun would shine on, with its ridiculously bright rays constantly intruding into his room and into his eyes. So with a frustrated sigh of air, Wally pushed himself into a vertical position, looking around his surroundings with a fog of confusion hazing up his understanding.

It was his room. His small, cluttered, nostalgic room. The room that he had been in but hadn't really _been in _for months. How many nights had he dragged himself through the doorframe at an impossible hour, fallen into bed with a horrific exhaustion, only to push himself back out of bed when the sun began to peek over the horizon? The title of 'room' seemed to denote actual living taking place inside of it, not zombie-like motions that meant nothing.

He changed automatically, like a robot that was programmed to go through the motions without any feeling. His old clothes still hung on his thin frame – _how long had it been since he'd had a real meal?_ – and he opened his closet to see an old hoodie there. A faded orange fabric that plucked at the strings of his memory, with patches of dirt from many pointless scuffs and days spent outside in the breeze. His fingers brushed over the fabric slowly before he finally turned away.

In the kitchen, Hoagie was already awake, moving around the area while shifting around pots and pans. In his hand was a wooden spoon, and the smell of pancakes had already begun to fill the room. Wally couldn't fathom the occasion – the only time they ever made pancakes was when there was going to be company over for breakfast. And Wally had a sneaking suspicion that he was not going to enjoy the morning if this was the case.

"Morning!" Hoagie was unbearably cheerful in the morning, Wally remembered suddenly. How he could manage it was a complete mystery. Normally, he would have just grunted, or said nothing before shuffling away to shower or something of the sort. But after worrying Hoagie the night before, he felt that Hoagie deserved something more from him this morning.

"Eh. . . good morning." His voice was hoarse, and thick with sleep. He cleared his throat once or twice, awkwardly, trying to see if his greeting had passed as somewhat civil. It appeared that it did, for Hoagie grinned at him while continuing to move around the kitchen with some kind of focus on tasks unknown to Wally. "Is someone coming over today?" he asked suspiciously, watching the boy beat more pancake batter in a green plastic bowl.

"Does someone need to come over for me to make pancakes?" Hoagie asked innocently, trying to be the picture of indignant at Wally's automatic assumption.

"Yes."

He only laughed, pouring the batter onto the skillet and turning to get another bowl where he was cutting up strawberries. "You caught me. Yes, we're having company." Wally waited for him to elaborate on what company it would happen to be, but he already had a feeling of dread. He could guess who it was going to be. "Your lovely friends are coming over."

Wally fell into a chair and grimaced at him, shaking his head. "Why them?" As if he wanted to see _her_ after last night, after the shouting match and the infuriating stubbornness that had radiated from them both. They had parted ways without any kind of polite farewell, with only a jerky wave from his side and a responding nod of the head, and then she was gone, hiding inside the shield of her house.

It was obvious that she was still mad at him, and he couldn't exactly blame her. But he wished that she would take that anger and redirect it at Nikki. It _was_ Nikki's fault, after all. He hadn't wanted to kiss that blonde monster. He was still convinced that she had fed him some kind of disease that had yet to manifest itself. Nikki-itis. It had a ring to it, and it was probably slowly killing him from the inside. He wouldn't have been surprised at all.

No, he did not want Kuki over here right now. Not at all.

Hoagie, however, obviously did not feel the same way, for he merely shrugged and flipped over a couple of the pancakes. "Because they helped me find you and I told them that I would repay them with breakfast."

Wally let out an exaggerated sigh and went to go escaped into a different room before they appeared, but it was too late. A knock on the door sounded, hesitant and quiet. Hoagie waved his wooden spoon toward the door vaguely. "Can you get that?"

Instead, Wally just sat there, enjoying the silence and grinning to himself. The knock sounded again, louder this time, demanding. Amusedly, Wally pondered the possibility that Kuki had knocked the first time, and that her friend had knocked the second time. It was likely. It wasn't until Hoagie shot him a glare that he heaved himself to his feet and made his way to the door, cracking it open.

"About time." Abby smirked at him, lifting an eyebrow upward in a display of mock anger. "Are you gonna let us in, or what? Abby's cold." Wally wanted to shut it in her face, but he decided against it, opening it to let them in before Hoagie's wrath was brought upon him.

"Do you always refer to yourself in third person?" he asked sarcastically, watching her make her way into the kitchen where Hoagie had waved at them. As if she wasn't already strange enough, with her take-no-crap attitude and her aura of continuous amusement.

"Always," was the only response he got, and Wally shrugged before turning to face the girl who was standing behind him, on the doorstep, as though afraid to enter without given express permission. When he locked eyes with her, he felt his tongue tie itself up, and it was impossible for him to come up with any sort of greeting for her.

"Hey." Her tone was awkward, and she looked as though she might bolt out the door any second. Wally wasn't sure if he would have minded that or not.

"Hey." It would have been easier to tell her something, like how that coat looked great on her, or how she looked funny when her nose was tweaked red in the cold, or how he wanted her to know how sorry he was about it all. But the words wouldn't come.

Hoagie laughed from his spot inside the kitchen. "Quite a conversation you've got going on, there." Wally gave him the best glare he could muster and then crossed his arms.

"How long until breakfast is ready?" he asked, imagining that he could shoot daggers out of his eyes and wishing that it would be so, so that he could get revenge on Hoagie's infuriating wit.

"I don't know, ten minutes or so?"

"Great." Looking back down at the girl, he fumbled around for a moment before asking softly, "Come for a walk with me?" It was not in his nature to so meekly request some time with a girl, but the steel-strength of her eyes was enough to convince him that it was needed in this moment.

She nodded once, and they slipped out the door, into the chill of the morning. The streets were not busy at all, and the silence seemed to weigh heavily on the entire neighborhood. Glad now that he had slipped on a jacket, Wally began to walk down sidewalk, and Kuki fell into step silently beside him, with her hands shoved deeply into the pockets of her coat.

"So, uh. . ." Not the best way to start, but Wally couldn't grasp a better idea. Without thinking, he blurted out, "What did you do with the pictures?"

She looked at him strangely for a second, obviously wondering why he would bring that up. Her shoulders moved up slightly before dropping. "They're at home. Abby and I were looking at them last night."

"Oh."

They lapsed back into silence, letting the sound of their footsteps do the talking for them. The breeze had caught onto her hair and curled the strands around her face in dancing motions, and he was trying not to think about how cold it was.

"Who was she?" The sound of Kuki's voice suddenly piercing the air startled him, and he stammered for a second before taking in the real meaning of her sentence. Cringing, he now realized how much Nikki's action had hurt her. More than he had actually known. Enough to make her question Nikki and what part she played in Wally's life.

"Her name is Nikki. She's part of. . . a group that I was in." He shuddered slightly. "She's scarier than the devil and Chuck Norris combined. Sometimes I think that she's the original creator of evil."

Kuki chuckled at his strange explanation, and Wally couldn't help but notice the look of relief that fleetingly flashed across her features. She chewed on her lip delicately, and Wally was brought to a memory from a few days before. "So you don't. . . I mean, you and her. . ."

"No."

Kuki's shoulder slumped with relief, and Wally couldn't help but laugh at her relaxed expression. It was amazing, the trust that she somehow had in him, even when he had lied to her for so long. As though she wanted to believe him with her entire heart. "Oh," she finally said, echoing his earlier sentiment. But a smile still danced on the corners of her mouth.

"I really. . . I just. . ." He felt somewhat lame, that his apology wouldn't come to his lips. Some stubborn part of him still accused her of being wrong, and yet he knew that he ought to be the one apologizing, even if he wasn't even sure what he was apologizing for. Finally, it came out in a pathetic mumble. "Sorry."

She didn't respond right away, and that worried him slightly. Her eyes were on him peripherally, and her whisper frustrated him more than the silence. "I still don't understand."

"Well. . ." he began, before realizing that it wasn't that easy to explain. Frustrated, he ran a hand through his hair and tried to find something that seemed logical. He couldn't. "I was a member of an organization that was checking up on people to see if they were involved in things that the organization was against. And I was assigned to you. So I had to lie. And then they thought that I was acting. . . against their purposes. So they staged a scene to piss you off."

It sounded ludicrous, especially once he'd said it out loud. It would have been crazy for her to believe him, and her silence seemed to agree.

Then she turned to him, and her violet gaze was suddenly locked on his. He could feel the full force of its effects, and couldn't break the eye contact. Her words came out slow, serious, and ultimately weighed more than a ton against his skin. "Is it an act _now_?"

"Would you believe me if I said no?" That was the real question. He could deny it all that he wanted, but it all came down to whether she believed him or not. And he was hoping that she would.

She did not answer at first, and mulled over the thought carefully, making him wonder if he'd hurt her too bad for her to forgive him. The entire thing, this ludicrous game that he'd been caught in. . . it had gained him nothing. It had hurt those around him. It had eaten away at his life until he had little left.

And he hated it.

"I would want to," she finally answered, putting her hands back into her pockets. Her gaze dropped and a tiny flame appeared inside of her cheeks.

And that was all that Wally needed.

His hand came up to cup the line of her jaw, and she barely had time to look up before he had pressed his mouth against hers.

It was like the first time that he had kissed her, except this time, there was a strange force that was pushing them both. He did not have to coax her lips apart this time; they were already open and tempting him to come closer. All the tension, all of the stress, all of the anger and fury, it was pouring out now, and he was demanding more from her than he had ever wanted from any other girl.

Forceful, aggressive, when she tried to pull away for breath, he did not allow her to escape him. It was there, it was perfect, it was _right_. Her fingers suddenly weaved themselves into his hair, and he felt his nerves shiver at the cold touch of her skin. She was open, accepting, asking, and he was answering, with all of the fire that was in him. He was playing with her tongue, he was biting on her lips, he was taking everything, and she was giving.

Suddenly they broke apart, both of them gasping in air, and Kuki swallowed hard without looking up at him. Her porcelain skin was streaked with scarlet, and Wally felt his own cheeks burn with the same heat. He couldn't help but feel a bit smug at the flame of red that was slowly moving to consume even more of her skin.

"How about now?" he whispered, trying to gauge her reaction by watching her facial expressions. It was constantly changing, flickering between confusion and confliction and something that he couldn't name. It was frustrating that he could not read her; as before, she was an enigma, one that he couldn't even begin to fathom.

Then her mouth pulled into a smirk. A bright, teasing, childlike smirk that startled him. "Maybe." And then she was jogging back to the house, laughing on the way. Feeling significantly lighter, he ran after her, and with another laugh, she slammed the door in his face and locked it. Inside, he could hear laughter, and suddenly he was glad that Hoagie had invited them over. His news about the I.U. would have to wait until later.

"Let me in!" he shouted, knocking loudly and listening to them chatter on the inside, before remembering that he had a key. The minute that the door was open, Kuki let out a shriek, and disappeared down the hall. Wally bolted after her, fully intending to tackle her to the ground and force her into submission, wrestling-style.

"They confuse me," Hoagie commented, piling the pancakes onto a plate to create a masterpiece pancake tower and trying to keep them from tipping over.

Abby grinned, peering around the corner to make sure no one had died. "That makes two of us."

--

"This is a very grievous thing that you have told me." The chair was turned so that its back was facing the pair standing on the other side of the table. It was impossible to read any emotion inside of the sentence, but this was normally the case when it came to their leader. Stone-faced and cold, it was a rare occasion indeed when his lips would curl up into what could only be described as a smile.

Thatcher grimaced. "I tried to bring him back, but he wouldn't listen. I don't know what got into him." It was an attempted defense. One that the figure in the chair did not want to hear.

"He was a good member," the voice said casually, as though baiting them to say more about the subject.

Nikki let out a tiny snort, obviously still bitter about her failed attempt to bring him back. Her face was a mask of fury that Thatcher was slightly intimidated by. "What does it matter?"

"Do you honestly think that we could take him down?" their leader purred, refusing to treat their situation with the full amount of seriousness that it deserved.

"With enough of us, we could!" Thatcher bristled slightly, snarling in the cave of his throat. He refused to believe that Wally was invincible, or even strong enough to take more than two or three of them.

The figure was silent for a long time, before finally making his decision. "We'll send a small team to take care of him. If he wins, then he deserves to live. We must give him credit for all that he has done for our headquarters, even if he has now strayed down a wrong path."

Nikki opened her mouth to demand a different decision, but she was silenced by Thatcher, who shook his head at her before turning to address the figure again. "I will assemble a team of six people. That's the number that he always boasted that he could handle. Is that acceptable?"

"Yes." The word was not just an acceptance; it was a dismissal. Quickly, the pair shuffled out.

Immediately, Nikki rounded on Thatcher furiously. "How could you give in to that?! He deserves to have a hundred men bearing down on him, pounding him into the ground!"

"Ah, Nikki." Thatcher smiled serenely and patted her shoulder. "I think you know six people who could take him on, don't you?"

After a few seconds, Nikki smirked, and her eyes glinted dangerously in anticipation for their future triumph. "Game on, Beetles."


End file.
